SGA Allies Arc 1 Gathering of Warriors
by Garrowan
Summary: The UKGTF has established itself, yet trouble looms already within the fledgling alliance. Despite this, the best and brightest soldiers begin arriving in Atlantis...a gathering of Warriors?... with PuddlejumperOz guest writing sections in bold, Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

At the height of the Ori invasion, their ground troops were spreading through worlds more quickly than anyone had planned, and whilst their ships were easier to avoid and worlds could be evacuated before they arrived, battalions began marching through the gates from captured worlds.

The US went to a state of full ground war, committing hundreds of soldiers where necessary.  
However, even the US couldn't uphold such commitment on its own, as well as conflicts on Earth.  
They turned to the nations who they knew would help.  
The UK, Australia and Canada.  
These commonwealth powers, along with several smaller European forces, provided funds, materials and troops to the SGC.  
Already possessing a small on site Garrison at the SGC, the UK enlarges this to a special taskforce of 500 men with more in support.

After the defeat of the Ori, the UK and US have a severe falling out over the treatment of UK personnel. The UK pulls out of SGC operations and pulls funding.  
In order to assuage the UK, a garrison is allowed on Atlantis, under the same conditions of the unit in Cheyenne mountain. 50 men with scientist back-up. Answerable to the highest rank present, no matter nationality etc, but with operational autonomy to explore the Pegasus galaxy.  
However, expected to help fund and defend Atlantis at all times.  
After a few months, the UKGTF returns to the SGC, assisting in all aspects of the program

Also, the IOA has funded its own SF unit, made up of specialists from the US and other nations. After secretly building an F303-hybrid ship of their own, their units go out in the galaxy collecting intel and gauging threats the SGC might not reveal of their own accord.

Here starts SGA - Allies. But who is really on who's side?

Message in a Bottle

_Transmission _

_"...that we have reconed and assessed the situation, situation is critical and will need support, for we have already gathered this information a week ago, since we took the long way to Atlantis... (secret IOA ship built up from a 303 since its smaller than a 304) we have not engaged any hostiles yet, and we have not been able to contact Altantis...(transmission breakup)... we are 1 light-year away from Atlantis and we have been taking a cloaked jumper to other...(transmission breakup)... known stargates in the nearby systems...(transmission breakup)... again situation is critical and will need back-up. my team of 5 men and 25 black-ops and a crew of 50 maning this stealth ship with limited weapons (5 Mk VIII nukes, 4 railgun mounts, and 1 Asgard Beam cannon) and we only have 1 ship bay for 2 302s and 1 jumper...(transmission breakup)...we have seen a large build up of unknown ships, NOT WRAITH...looks like...(transmission breakup)...Renegade-...(transmission breakup)...and again we have very limited weapons...(transmission breakup)...we have a surplus of small arms fitted for the crew and my teams...(transmission breakup)...today at 2055 hours...(transmission breakup)...my jumper came in contact with a "scout ship"...(transmission breakup)...it ...(transmission breakup)...see us but it looks like it has similar technology towards the...(transmission breakup)...advise that we pack more nukes and firepower...(transmission breakup)...there seems to be a shield and an organ-...(transmission breakup)...we can only assume that the standard Mk VIII...(transmission breakup)...to disable it or destroy it...(transmission breakup)...no idea on smaller fighters...(transmission breakup)...it is safe to assume that our small arms will do the trick...(transmission breakup)...we've took photo recon-...(transmission breakup)...found a scouting party on a surface of a planet...(transmission breakup)... and it looks like they are wearing...(transmission breakup)...which it seems our 6.8mm and anything above that can...(transmission breakup)...for sure...(transmission breakup)... _

_...again requesting support, cordinates will be transmitted as soon as you reach 90% of the journey to this galaxy around the...(transmission breakup)...quadrant...(transmission breakup)...we will maintain our position until reinforcements arrive...(transmission breakup)... we'll be waiting for you...(transmission breakup)... _

_-wilco Major, out_"

Weir didn't know about the IOA ship, and in her ignorance sent a team to the nearest planet to the transmission, in order to find out what is happening.  
Apparently, whilst the 303-Hybrid _Nightcrawler_ was making its sweeps, they ran into Wraith trouble on a world the Wraith were thought to have abandoned.

Major Macara, having served with Trang in Afghanistan, heads a rescue team that Sheppard tries to stop, as there is no proof that it is nothing more than an elaborate Wraith plot. Major Macara knows better, and thus ignores Sheppard's athority (remembering that officially, he has to do nothing that the USAF say, because, well, he ain't US) and proceeds through the gate, his own men forcing Atlantis staff out of the gateroom in order to use it. He won't leave a comrade in trouble, or a ship full of service personnel in enemy hands...

From here, the main story begins...


	2. Chapter 2

Trang sat aboard the lone puddle jumper with his team and 2 scientists, Drs Wong and Lamat that he had managed to save before the Nightcrawler was heavily damaged and abandoned. Under strict orders not to allow the enemy to take the ship, it is now counting down for self destruct.  
And how easily they had been found....

_Dr's Wong and Lamat were on loan from Taiwan and France...they were investigating the strange wraith-like soldiers, seemingly different to normal Drones. The team had taken out several of these Warriors, unaware that they were being monitored the whole time.  
"Take samples from those Drones, quickly," Trang ushered. "I don't like the feeling crawling up my spine and would feel a whole lot safer where we to get out of here,"  
As they headed to their beam-out site, a beam swept the group from the trees, and their equipment was tagged by a distinct radiation-like beam.  
"What the hell was that?" Trang looked round at his men. No one seemed any the worse for wear, but he was left feeling distinctly chilled. Nothing moved in the treeline, no fire came from Wraith stunners, no Darts could be heard.  
"I don't think it has harmed us," Dr Lamat said quickly.  
"Right, we are leaving anyway. I'm not hanging around to find out what the Wraith have in store for us, if they have realized we are here," Trang muttered.  
From the treeline, a Wraith major sent a subspace relay, beckoning Wraith forces from the system._

_After the message was sent, 2 wraith scout ships entered the system, detecting the __Nightcrawler__.  
"Sir, two Wraith cruisers have entered the planet's space," a USAF lieutenant spoke as the major appeared on the bridge, still in combat gear.  
"Go to stealth mode," Trang ordered.  
"Aye, sir,"  
"All systems to sleep mode, shields to maximum allowed by Stealth-setting. let's see if they pass us by."__Nightcrawler__.  
Caught off guard believing that their stealth technology would keep them hidden, the radiation from the tagging beam was detectable even through the semi-cloak __Nightcrawler__ could erect. The Wraith cruisers fired upon Trang's ship before he could get the shields to 80% (to maintain stealth __Nightcrawler__ have to keep the shields at 40% or lower) the shields dropped back to 30% far too quickly by the barrage of energy pulses. Trang ordered the beam weapon to target the furthest Cruiser and fired a barrage of missiles and railguns at the nearest ship.  
The furthest cruiser was split almost in two by the APBW. Darts took many of the missiles head on, but one got through, complete with a hail of railgun fire. the second Cruiser was damaged badly, but was still able to move. hastily it's commander ordered it to swing around and go to hyperspace.  
The Nightcrawer's crew cheered their first proper action; they had destroyed one enemy and severely damaged another.__Nightcrawler__ came about and sped towards the Hive and the cruisers, weapons firing. The APBW sliced a section form one of the Cruisers, and crippled the engines on the second.  
The Hive was a tougher prospect. The railguns were causing damage, but nowhere near enough to slow it down._

The two Wraith cruisers seemed to drift by the Nightcrawler, heading towards the dark side of the planet.  
However, within moments they were swinging their course around, opening fire upon the

The joy was short lived, as a Hive dropped in from hyperspace with another duo of cruisers, the damaged cruiser behind these three fresh ships.  
Before the human vessel could target and move about, the Hive opened fire and took down the shields from their recently achieved 80% right back down to 21%.  
"Brace for impact!" Trang bellowed before ordering all nukes to be armed and all missiles to target all Hive at once, and railguns to be fired at any darts within 50km of the ship.  
The Asgard beam cannon was set to fire at 50% charge, in order to fire 2 shots at once at different ships.

Nightcrawler came powering in, drawing abeam with the Hive, only 500 km, point blank in space terms.  
"Fire the missiles!" Trang ordered as more impacts rocked his ship.  
"Sir?" the tactical officer asked, knowing full well the damage that could be done to them if the Hive went up.  
"Do it!" Trang ordered, a few beads of sweat rolling down his brow. he knew, too, how dangerous this could be.

The missiles tore through the empty space, closing the distance in seconds. They were so close, only a single missile was intercepted by a lone dart.  
All the other weapons impacted on the hull, causing numerous nuclear explosions. fire bloomed outward into the vacuum as atmosphere escaped from the punctured hull.  
the numerous shockwaves reverberated all along the organic hull, causing the super-strong material to quiver and shake. the hull seemed to glow from the inside as secondary explosions raced through the corridors, scorching them bare of life.  
An instant later, the over-cooked reactors of the Hive exploded in a fearful torrent, destroying the vessel almost utterly, and vaporizing dozens of Darts.  
Nightcrawler was almost out of range when the Hive blew. What was left of her shields took the impacts, but failed scant moments later.  
Consoles blew, crew were thrown around and power levels dropped dangerously low.  
Trang looked at the tactical readouts and knew it was all lost. The Wraith capital ships were gone, but dozens of Darts were still flying around.  
He couldn't let the Wraith have the ship.  
"This is Major Trang, all hands, head to the Jumper bay. We have lost beam-capabilities, head to the port docking bay and get to the Jumpers," he spoke into the Tannoy.  
The bridge crew was currently made up of Trang's black ops, Wong, Lamat and four USAF crewmen. Trang turned to them

"_Set the self destruct. Give us twenty-five minutes, silent countdown."_

"_Sir," one of the crewmen replied, typing at a console. Trang stepped over to enter his authorization code._

_Trang hated the idea of blowing his own ship on its first outing, but he really had no other choice._

"_Okay, grab your rifles and let's move,"_

_Trang and the SF group moved through the corridors with crew and the two scientists. They found over a dozen bodies on the way, some of which had been fed upon._

_As soon as the major and his unit saw this, their ACR's came up quickly, marking the dark corners and blind-spot corridors._

"_Right, move out, slowly and keep your eyes open!" Trang ordered. "We have borders!" The team all nodded, and the group moved past after taking the dog-tags and proceeded as fast as they could towards the port side docking bay._

_They were almost there, when fire erupted from their left flank, the corridor dark from power failures and caved ceiling-beams._

"_Cover! Return fire!" Trang bellowed. ACR's barked in tight, controlled bursts as the Black Ops scored hits_

"_They've hit us too soon! They can't get to us now!" one of his Sergeants, Masterson, cried, dropping a Drone._

_Trang didn't answer, just continuing to keep the Wraith pinned down._

_A new layer of fire started, stun blasts coming from the rear. These blasts were different, thought, being less blue in color, with a tint of gold._

_Trang watch in horror as one blast burned through his troopers__ armour__. The man fell without a sound._

"_Defilade to the rear! I've got no shot!" a Canadian sergeant called out, a second before another flurry of shots cut him down._

_One of the crewmen with him slumped to the deck as well. Trang made the call._

"_Move! Run to the docking bay! Sergeant Masterson and I will provide a covering fire! Go!" Trang bellowed._

_The whole group surged down the Corridor, SF's in front, crew in the middle._

_Trang and Masterson put up a stiff field of fire, one eve the Wraith had no wish to enter.  
The group made it to the docking bay, to see there was only one jumper left. Hopefully that meant that the other crewmen had made an escape._

"_Get in, now!" Trang called. One of his troopers dove into the pilot's seat and started the Jumper up. __Trang and Masterson were almost in the vehicle when the sergeant went down. Trang dropped the Wraith who shot the sergeant, and dragged the wounded man aboard. __The jumper was rocked with impacts as it left the docking bay, and its engines flared for a second before sputtering and dying._

* * *

The jumper floated further away from the ship, but no Dart's came to destroy them, and nothing left the _Nightcrawler_.

Lamat was working on a data-slate, muttering something about 'networks' and 'saving their arses'

Trang's corpsman saw to Masterson's injuries, and Trang started in frustration as his ship.

It seemed the Wraith were stuck in a broken ship about to blow, and Trang was stuck in a broken jumper.

"Great," the major hissed under his breath.

"I've got eet! I made zis thing work!" Lamat shouted suddenly, startling everyone.

"What? What is it?" Trang asked, trying to get an exuberant Lamat to speak sense.

"The _Nightcrawler_ has a backup to the beam system, but we couldn't access it during the battle. I managed to use zis networked data-slate to activate it!" Lamat said.

Trang was on his feet in an instant.

"Beam us to the rendezvous Co-ordinates, now!" he ordered, the smile dropping from Lamat's face at the tone of the command.

"Yes, of course," he muttered, pushing a few buttons. A moment later, the SF and scientists were highlighted by blue light, the smell of ozone and the hum of Asgard tech, before being dematerialised.

The small group re-appeared amidst the rest of the surviving _Nightcrawler_ crew, no more than forty personnel. They were in a forest clearing, a large one, with the other two escape Jumpers about thirty Yards away.

They were also surrounded by a ring of heavily armed Wraith Drones.

"Out of the frying pan," Trang muttered as he and his seven remaining SF's raised their rifles. Major Trang was ready to fight on, but Lamat and Wong managed to talk them out of it.

"The Wraith haven't stunned us yet, so maybe, just maybe, they want something else?" Wong said, thinking hard.

"I'm pretty sure they want to feed on us," Trang muttered, not lowering his rifle.

The lead Wraith, a major, by the looks of it, stepped forward and started talking. He was only twenty yards away, but Trang could just make out what he was saying. The Wraith major said something about soulless creatures, one's they couldn't feed on. A sudden thought struck Major Trang's mind....have they made contact with the Asuran's too?

Masterson was sitting up, a female crewman helping him. The injured sergeant had his pistol drawn.  
The Wraith spread out a little more, herding the group of humans more tightly together.

"Major?" What do we do?" Wong asked in panic.

"Get ready to take as many down as possible," Trang muttered sarcastically. "Oh, right, there are only seven of us here with rifles,"

The Wraith major stalked forward, as if to talk to Trang, who hadn't answered a single comment the Wraith had made. The alien slowly lifted his feeding hand, and Trang tensed, rifle swinging up.

There was a loud 'crack', and less than half-a-second later the contents of the Wraith's head was smeared over the front of Trang's uniform. The Wraith Drone's almost as one, turned to face this new threat as a layer of gunfire erupted from the forest. Accurate, well placed rounds tore into the Wraith at the flanks, away from the crewmen.

"Open fire!" Trang bellowed, his men firing mercilessly into undefended Wraith backs.

It didn't take long for the Wraith to fall, their return fire not the lethal blasts of their comrades aboard _Nightcrawler_, seemingly just stunner blasts.

A couple of crewmen, and the unfortunate Wong, were also stunned, but there were no severe casualties.

The firefight was brief and fierce, Trang's Black Ops expending what little ammunition they hand left in a few moments.

The last Wraith drone died like the first, the inside of his skull spread in a widening pool on the ground.  
Major Trang's men stood to even after the last Wraith was killed, and waited as their 'saviors' appeared.  
"US?" Trang shouted. He received no answer.

"Major?" Sergeant Masterson groaned from his sitting position, his pistol wavering.

"Check your ammo. If you have any clips left, reload now," Trang muttered to his team.

There was more silence, then a voice barked form the trees.

"Stand down! We're coming out,"

Men stalked from the woods in an unusual DPM. Ten, then twenty, then thirty five with another half dozen stunned men. Green berets atop forest DPM and Atlantis arm flashes.  
Major Macara has arrived.

* * *

"We got your signal, but neither Weir not Sheppard were inclined to let me leave Atlantis. Did anyway, and you ought to be pretty glad we did." Macara said as the two officers clasped hands, much relief on both their faces.

"You bet I am, Nate. How did you find us?"

"We arrived and scouted round. Not long after, several Darts came down and dropped off a force of Drones. I decided to follow them and see what was happening. We had an ambush set and were ready to attack when the jumper landed. I had to re-position," Macara grinned.

"Who took the shot?" Trang asked.

"Marine Bennett. " Macara replied, grinning. "One of the best in the RMC," the major continued, with no little pride in his voice.  
Trang started suddenly, checking his timepiece.

"Lamat, can you beam a strike team onto the _Nightcrawler_?"

The scientist ran over. "Yes, I can major. Why?"

"I want my ship back before the self destruct blows," Trang replied.

"Of course!" Lamat said, typing away.

"STANAG mags, Nate?" the Black ops commander turned to the marine.

"Of course. Sergeant major Quincannon, dole out some spares! Sergeant Grant, your section to accompany major Trang's men!" Macara barked his orders as Trang's men took the spare magazines gratefully.

"I'll secure a perimeter here, see to the wounded and stunned," Macara offered. Trang nodded gratefully, before cocking his rifle.

"Beam us up, Scotty," Trang ordered.

"I don't even like Star Trek...." Lamat muttered as he hit the buttons.

* * *

"Damn him!" Sheppard ranted. "He can't just do what he wants!"

"I know, John, but what if he was right?" Weir said, trying to assuage the Colonel.

"Elizabeth, he just took eighty percent of the British garrison off on a wild Goose chase to see if it was possible an Earth ship was in distress; an Earth ship that can't possibly exist, because the _Daedalus_ is here!" John pointed at the gate, towards in imaginary point where Macara was.

"I know, and I am furious with how he did it, but it keeps nagging me; what if he was right?" Weir tried again.

"I'm going to have him court-martialed for this! Cowardice, Absent without leave, inciting mutiny....." Sheppard ranted.

"I understood he has autonomy to explore as he wants...?" Weir began.

"Within our discretion!" Sheppard muttered. "Damn it!"

"What have you done about it?" Elizabeth asked.

"I cancelled his IDC. He'll have to beg to be let back in,"

"John..." Elizabeth began.

"Colonel, you need to come and see this," Chuck interrupted from the door to Elizabeth's office.

"What?" John asked as he walked over to Chuck's console.

"There, on the long range. We have Wraith ships inbound," Chuck said.

Sheppard looked at Weir, fear in both their eyes.

"Now you say I'm over-reacting? Call a red alert, get the Marine gunners to their weapons and cloak the city. Contact Caldwell and tell him they're coming." Sheppard ordered, running from the room, heading for an armoury.

"We have incoming wormhole! Chuck called, stopping Sheppard in his tracks.

"Macara?" Weir asked, desperately hoping against hope.

"No IDC ma'am. And no one is attempting to come through," Chuck replied.

Sheppard almost snarled with anger. "The Wraith have gated in to stop us getting out or sending for help,"

"How did they find us?" Weir asked.

"I'm willing to bet Macara walked into an ambush and has given us up," Sheppard spat. "They know we are here. Forget the cloak, get the shield ready and get ready to defend this place,"

* * *

It wasn't long before Trang began beaming people from the surface. The Wraith, devoid of Space craft capable of travelling in Hyperspace, and abandoned the crippled ship they could fix and had gone down to the planet where they expected to find their comrades. Macara's marines had seen to them.

Trang had just over forty crew left from a compliment of eighty two – he was lucky that most of the survivors were engineers and system operators.

The first thing he did was to set them on getting the engines back.

The damage, although severe, was not crippling. They had lost shields and the explosion had shorted some of the power supplies across the vessel, effectively hobbling the engines. His weapons and shields would be working fine, if they could sort out the power situation.

"Major, maybe you should gate back to Atlantis with your men?" Trang offered the idea as Macara walked onto the bridge.

"We have a problem, " Macara said. "We can't get a gate connection."

"What? Surely someone else was gating in and out?"

"We tried four times at ten minute intervals. Something is going on." Macara replied.

"A gate can only stay open for thirty eight minutes..."

"Which means someone is repeatedly dialing Atlantis," the Scottish major replied, his gaze saying what his mouth didn't.

"Wraith," Trang said. "Right, we get power, we go and help,"

"That sounds good to me." Macara replied with a fierce relish.

* * *

"How much longer until they get here?" Sheppard asked.

"Well, they've taken a stop here to let the hull regenerate. That gives us something like six hours." McKay replied pointing to the screen.

"How long can the shield stand under bombardment from them?"

"Days, considering the forces arrayed against us. The _Daedalus_ should be able to take a single hive with her Asgard weapons. It's the four cruisers that may prove troublesome."

"What about the gate?" Weir asked next. McKay sighed and pointed.

"They keep redialing every 38 minutes. Every time we have tried to dial before them, they get there first. It's like they have an automatic dialing system active, or something!" the scientist blurted in frustration. "There isn't much we can do right now,"

"We can get ready to defend this place." Sheppard growled, turning on his heel.

* * *

It took a little over three hours, but the _Nightcrawler_ was in a better position to fight. Trang ordered the ship to go to hyperspace, and hoped they could get to Atlantis before the Wraith did. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

"Here they come," Chuck called out as he scanned his console's screen.

"Shields up," Weir called.

"Yes, ma'am."

The orange field enveloped the city, and the city's inhabitants prepared to fight.

* * *

"As soon as the hive translates, Target and open fire," Caldwell ordered Marks. "I don't want this to last long."

"Aye, sir." Major Marks replied.

"All hands, battle stations!" Caldwell tannoyed. "Prepare to Engage the enemy,"

The ship became a frenzied hub of activity, crewmen preparing for damage control and possible boarding actions.

"Sir, they're here," Marks said. Caldwell looked up and saw the ships translating. A hive with four cruisers appeared in battle formation. Almost as soon as they appeared an almost literal Wave of Wraith Darts poured from the Carriers, heading towards the lone 304 and the planet below.

"Launch fighters, bring the engines to military thrust, engaged that hive!" Caldwell ordered.

The second battle for Atlantis was about to begin.

* * *

**Two 3/4 Hours later**

__The_ Nightcrawler_ translated near Atlantis space. There were frantic calls from aid from _Daedalus_, presumably, with equally garbled replies from Atlantis.

"_How...ll did the...get into...ity?_" Trang's comms officer picked up from the multitude of radio traffic.

Sheppard's voice suddenly could be heard, albeit broken and stilted.

"_Darts flew at the shields, like last tim....slowed up before they hit, came through the shields at minimum velocity. We shot down dozens, but enough made it thro....got dozens of Wraith in th...ity..._"

"Sir, Atlantis has no shields, and we can't detect any drone's firing, either," the comms officer said to Trang.

"Damn it. Nate, get ready to beam into the city with your Marines and my Black Ops. Help get the drone chair active again," Trang ordered.

"_No problem, Vic,_" Macara's disembodied voice replied.

Trang returned his attention to the battle to their fore. The _Daedalus_ was giving the Hive hell, but her APBW's weren't firing. She was also taking a lot of damage, the cruisers helping the Hive to pin the Earth ship down. Trang knew he had to run some interference.

"Sir, I don't understand, but we aren't detecting any Wraith communication at all. Of any sort," the comm's operator said suddenly.

"Well let's take it to them before they transmit anything dangerous," Trang smiled fiercely.  
Without pause, Major Trang ordered the helmswoman to take the _Nightcrawler_ to the fray.

Fighters launched, the _Nightcrawler_ sailed straight for the nearest cruiser, first volley crippling its engines, before Trang directed the weakened IOA ship towards the next target.

The Wraith were in for a fight.

* * *

Macara and his company beamed down and discovered havoc.

Smoke was pouring form quarters of the city as Darts swept by, making strafing runs. A few 302's chased them, having followed the attack wave from orbit, and the City's railguns spat rounds into the sky. Wraith were fighting their way through the city to the control tower. All over, pockets of Human defenders fought bravely, but were ultimately pushed back.

* * *

Sheppard fired his P90 and urged his men back to the next make-shift barricade. The Wraith, some with regular stunners, others with these new lethal weapons, were driving them back up the tower.

"This is Sheppard, we are holed up on the stairs and require assistance!"

Even as Sheppard called, more Wraith pushed their way into the corridor and towards his stairwell...

Macara led his men forward, before making a choice that would either prove well chosen, or go badly wrong.

He left three sections, with his two GPMG's, to hold the base of the tower against any more Wraith reinforcements and led the rest up the tower.

The Marines and Black ops fought hard, clawing at the invaders, dropping entire groups in minutes of intense firefights.

The Wraith were far from useless though, using ambush tactics and their physic abilities to throw the humans off balance. Macara lost several good men as he fought his way up through the tower.

"Push on! I want at least two men firing at each Drone, but only in tight controlled bursts!" he ordered.

"You heard the major! Watch your spacing!" sergeant major Quincannon barked, his Northern Irish accent sounding fierce and guttural through the fighting, like Cuchulainn himself.

They could hear more fighting from the opposite end of a corridor they emerged on form the stairs.

"Sergeant Major, a section and one SF fire team to remain here, the rest with me!" Macara said, moving forward with F company's best men.

"Yes, sir!" Quincannon replied, before assembling his blocking force.

Macara reloaded his L85A5 before moving on, his men ready to engage once more....

* * *

Major Trang had disabled, almost destroying, one wraith cruiser before moving on to the next, _Nightcrawler's_ fighter escorts helping scower away the Darts that came screaming to the attack like a wave of enraged hornets.

The _Daedalus_ engaged the Hive and was doing a valiant job, but the Hive's firepower was proving a major problem. _Daedalus_ had scored several huge hits, but right at the critical moment, her new APBW have gone offline, not to enemy weapons fire but through as yet unknown circumstances.

"What's happened?" Caldwell shouted over the noise of exploding panels.

"No idea, sir! They were working fine one minute, then the next they were down. Probably a transducer fault," Marks replied, making a rather good guess.

"Get a team down to the section with the coils, get them fixed! And prepare another nuke for beaming," Caldwell ordered.

"Yes, sir. Sir, we still can't by their jamming...." Marks said.

"I know. Beam it amongst that new wave of Darts. Make sure our fighters are nowhere near it," Caldwell replied. Marks grinned slightly.

"Yessir!"

A half dozen 302's wheeled away from the approaching mass of Dart's, hundreds of the Wraith single ships streaming towards the human fighters.

A second later, the nuke appeared amidst them. One brave Dart pilot turned to try and take it out, but the fuse was far too short. The weapon detonated, taking a massive swathe of Darts. The shockwave went out for a moment more, before fading to nothing.

The _Daedalus_ and a handful of 302's were in the gap created a moment later, nothing between them and the Hive ships.

* * *

Major Macara's team was beginning to get bogged down, but they had almost reached Sheppard's embattled position.

The Marines and Black Ops pushed on, tossing frags round corners and using 203's and AG40's to sort out stiff pockets of resistance.

"Push on! Push on!" Macara shouted, hearing fierce fighting further along the corridor.

Sheppard and a group of city security and US Marines were pinned down behind their makeshift barricade. Sheppard had about half the number of men left to him that he started the battle with. Almost a dozen were dead outright.

The US Marine's were putting up a fearsome defence, and for every human that fell the Wraith were punished. It was a tenacious and heroic fight, but it was one the Marine's were losing through firepower and numbers.

"Hold them back! I can here firing down the corridor! We've got back up, just hold on!" Sheppard called.

"Sir, they're rushing us!" one of the Security troopers called as a cry went up.

Almost two dozen drones started running towards them, and even the tight, accurate fire of the Human weapons couldn't drop all the Wraith. Several more USMC fell.

Sheppard took a stun blast to his shoulder, and it hit him with sufficient force to drop him on his arse.

The USMC lads began to fall back into the stairwell as the Wraith pushed closer, leaving the dead and wounded as they went. They continued to harass the horde of Drones, in the hope of getting back to their comrades.

The Wraith's own advance slowed now by the weight of casualties they had suffered.

Sheppard struggled to sit up, even as the first Drone reached his barricade.

Macara noticed the drop in volume of firing and urged his men on again, driving them towards the fading sounds of guns.

"Move it!" Quincannon bellowed, the Marines and Special Forces fearing him far more than any Wraith.

* * *

Trang watched the cruiser he had been sparring with try to move around the damaged _Nightcrawler_, the Wraith ship firing at both the _Daedalus_ and _Nightcrawler_.

"Bring us about, a quarter impulse, then hit us up to three quarters and open fire with the APBW."

"Aye, sir," his helmswoman and tactical officer both replied.

_Nightcrawler_ lurched to the side, even the artificial gravity struggling to compensate for the sudden maneuver. The weakened stealth ship groaned under the metal stress.

"Come on, hold together," Trang muttered.

The _Nightcrawler_, with her enhanced mobility and engine power, tore through space behind the Wraith cruiser, rapidly overtaking it.

The commander of the Cruiser had obviously thought the _Nightcrawler_ had been taken unawares and left stranded from the rest of the battle. The cruiser didn't open fire on the human Stealth ship until the last second, and by then it was too late.

The APBW fired, slicing down through the hull of the Wraith craft, scoring its flanks and opening several decks to space. After another second of firing, the beam having raked all the way along the cruiser, the Wraith vessel expanded outward for a moment before exploding with tremendous force.

"Good. Now, take us towards that Hive," Trang ordered.

The major noticed from his tactical display, the vast amounts of power he was using with his single APBW, but it is the only thing keeping the two human ships in the fight.  
"_This is Caldwell. Identify!_" the hail came straight through to Trang's command chair, during a brief lull as both sides pause to regroup and attack again. The transmission was weak, and crackly, as if punching through some major interference.  
Trang winced; he knew that coming to help the fight at Atlantis would reveal the IOA ship to the USAF forces engaged there. But what else could he have done? Left them to die?  
"This is Major Trang of the IOA Recon ship _Nightcrawler_. Sorry we didn't mention anything a little sooner, but as you know we are a little busy," Trang said laconically, inwardly wincing again for the rebuke he knew was coming.  
"_Well, you are a sight for sore eyes, major, although I don't know what the IOA thinks it's doing building a damned...stealth ship, but that can wait. We think we have isolated the problems with the APBWs, and are ready to make an attack run on that hive. I would very much like your assistance,_"  
"Yes, sir. But if your beam weapons aren't on line, we are all in trouble....."  
It was Caldwell's turn to wince, as consoles behind him sparked from earlier damage. "_Yes, well, at least we won't be around long enough to complain if this goes wrong,_"  
Trang turned to his bridge crew and shouted the helm to bring her about and sail straight for the Hive. The _Daedalus_ fell in beside her and the two ships prepared to open fire..........

In the battle scarred corridor on Atlantis, the Wraith had advanced to the fallen soldiers, some of who were starting to come round.  
The first Drone fed on a struggling Marine, roaring with satisfaction as his strength returned. That first marine was dead and sucked dry when another layer of gunfire added to the close quarter combat. The Wraith leader took three in the back and fell next to a groggy Sheppard.  
The Wraith drones turned to engage this new threat as they saw the forest DPMs and green berets of the RMC coming for them. Once again they made the mistake of turning their backs on their original foe, and the security forces and USMC charged out form the stairwell and fired into the Wraith, regaining their barricade.

The Wraith fell one by one, dozens of rounds used to fell them. The human soldiers didn't have it all their own way, and two Royal Marines, and another SF, were killed before the last Wraith was killed.

The Wraith leader was slowly crawling closer to Sheppard whilst the inferno of battle raged on behind them. The vile alien growled and spat, slowly raising a hand to feed and speed his regeneration. Sheppard glared defiance at the alien, but couldn't yet move strongly enough to stop it,  
A single 9mm round blew the front of the wraith's face off, leaving only a tiny hole at its entrance point in the back of its skull. Splatter covered Sheppard.  
"Hollow Point, technically against human rights, but hey, he's no human," an arrogant voice announced. Sheppard craned his neck to see Macara bringing his Browning HP up and firing the last of his clip at a Wraith drone who didn't realise he should be dead yet.

"Major….good timing…." Sheppard groaned, sitting up and checking he was still all there.

"Why is the shield down and the drone chair not firing?" Macara asked. "And our comms went dead as soon as we landed."

"McKay figured on a way to jam the Wraith's transmissions from here, but our own went with the bargain." Sheppard replied.

"How could the _Daedalus_ still communicate?" Macara asked, curious now.

"I have no idea, major. If you want a technological discussion, ask McKay. As for the drones, we lost one of the generators in that area. The Wraith hit the ZPM room too; we have no idea how much damage was done,"

Macara thought for a moment. The situation wasn't good.  
"Move in! Police the bodies and get the stunned or wounded men over to that doorway!" he pointed as he reloaded his pistol "Sergeant major! Get some men and strip the dead and wounded for ammo. Leave four men with the injured and prepare to move to the chair room!"  
"Yes sir!" Quincannon saluted sharply before turning and bellowing at the men.  
"You'll need someone with the gene," Sheppard croaked as he rose unsteadily to his feet.  
Macara cocked an eyebrow. "You think you can manage?"  
"Whatever a limey marine can do, I can manage fine," he growled in return, eyes narrowed.  
"Very good. Sir." Macara made the 'sir' sound about as impudent as any insult would have.  
"This doesn't make things even, major," Sheppard gestured to the carnage.  
"You know what? I don't care! Okay, everyone, and that means Atlantis teams too, saddle up, let's move!" Macara bellowed, leading them off towards a transporter. Sheppard glared malice behind them, but checked his magi and followed on.

* * *

The _Nightcrawler_ and _Daedalus_ came along their approach vectors, ready to hit the Hive with their APBWs. The Wraith ship blazed blue plasma bolts in return, the shields of the Earth ships flickering as the energy hit the force fields, creating rippling waves in the undulating surfaces.

The surviving Wraith cruisers were coming about as quickly as possible, to try and save the Hive.

They didn't reach it in time.

The Earth ships sailed along the length of the gargantuan vessel, spitting APBs at it, their shots gouging great tears in the organic armor. They took several more hits each, and _Nightcrawler_ lost her shields once more. But the damage was done.

At full military thrust, the Earth craft came apart and away from the Hive, _Daedalus _firing a few more shots.

The Hive didn't explode, but its power flickered and died, many sections were open to space, and the great vessel started spinning, drifting away from the planet.

Trang was about to cheer when his tactical officer gave a warning.

"Sir, we have another three ships translating. Wraith." The captain said.

Trang cursed, a moment before Caldwell's voice came across the comm.

"_Major, do you read?_" the transmission was still a little fuzzy.

"Yes, sir,"

"_You're Special Forces, right?"_ Caldwell asked, his voice cold.

"Yes, sir," Trang said again, knowing the best way to get past a senior officer was a series of 'yes' and 'no' sir answers.

"_Get down to the City and get the chair operational please. We'll need the drones if we are going to make it through," _Caldwell said candidly.

"Yes, colonel. Right away. Good luck, sir." Trang said, leaving his seat. He directed the ADF captain at tactical to take over as the command chair, before beckoning his last few SF and heading to the armoury.

* * *

The teams moved quickly now, through corridors scarred by battle, dead humans and Wraith littered the area.

Sheppard and Macara were about to lead through to the next area, when light materialised before them, and figures appeared. The sound of Asgard beams echoed through the hallway.

Trang stood with a small group of his special forces. Macara walked over

"Shouldn't you be up there killing Hives?" Macara asked jovially. Trang grinned and took his hand.

"I'm fairly certain Caldwell can manage fine."

All the while Sheppard simply stood glaring at the two.

"Well, are we going to clear the last pockets of Wraith resistance?" Trang asked, ushering his men into the lead.

"My team will lead here major," Sheppard growled. "This is still my command."

Macara looked at the body-language of the two men and interceded.

"Colonel, maybe if major Trang's men led the operation, with you accompanying them due to your intimate knowledge of the city, and I will support with your men and my own. Trang's men are special forces, after all."

Sheppard looked Macara up and down, then nodded. "Good point. Okay, we will drive along the peer to the chair room. You major, will round up all forces in the area, get to the ZPM room before continuing on to meet us. Is that clear?"

Macara saluted sharply, palm outward "Of course, colonel."

The two forces broke apart, and Macara led the fifteen men he had left, a mix of Marines and RMC to start collecting up groups of defenders.

"Lieutenant Hardy, have any of the stunned Marines come to yet?"

There was a brief crackle on the radio, before a younger voice replied. "_Yes, sir. I had the city security team take the wounded to that new doctor, Keller, and I've brought a fair mix of men down to the pier. We're trying to find you._"

Macara looked at his life-signs scanner. There was a group of maybe twenty in one direction, with another, roughly equal sized group heading towards them. He didn't know who was who.

"Lieutenant, you have potential hostiles moving your way. Prepare to engage, but remember the rules of engagement, in case they are ours. I don't want any blue on blue."

"_Yes sir._"

Macara looked at the men he was with. Three Marines, two city security and ten more RMC. Not a fair fight for the Wraith at all, he thought.

"Move out," he out simply.


	4. Chapter 4

Caldwell stared at the new arrivals to the fight; three bloody Hives. Three. Could they get no luck this day? Cruisers, he could maybe of handled.

The _Nightcrawler_ had minimal shields back, and _Daedalus_ was only slightly better off. There was no way they could hold three Hives off by themselves.

"Hurry up, Trang, we could use some help," Caldwell whispered.

* * *

Macara had already met with six groggy RMC who were just about recovered from stunner blasts. He had also found two of his own men dead, drained of life.

"Sergeant major, police some ammo and get ready to move. Those two groups are almost on each other."

"Yes, major,"

Macara looked at the US troops with him. The five men were knackered, not used to constant trekking over large distances, especially not the soldiers forming the Security detachment. They could fight well enough, but they just weren't as used to tabbing as the Commandos.

"Right, they're only a couple of hundred metres away. You five, stay here with the sergeant major and hold this corridor. I'm taking the others and we'll meet up with lieutenant Hardy. If you need any help, just radio in."

Macara didn't wait for an affirmative; he knew Quincannon would get the job done, and now he could move faster

Breaking into a quick jog, the remaining RMC made good time. They arrived at a junction in the corridor just the first group of the life-signs scanner arrived, turning the corner at the same moment.

Corporal Allen, six feet four and built like a tank, bumped into someone equally as tall. Within the blink of an eye, the Marine was grounded by a sharp right to the sternum, then knocked cold by a large boot.

The next Marine backed away from a second kick, and Ronon appeared round the corner. He dropped that Marine too, and a third, pinning him against the wall, pistol drawn.

Ronon grinned at the marine evilly, teeth bared.

It was then Ronon felt the Fairburn-Sykes against his ribs, from behind.

"Using a knife from behind? Very brave," he spat.

Macara nodded. "Anything to win a fight, Dex. Now put him down."

"I let go of this guy and I'm going to break you in half," Ronon replied.

Macara believed it as well, and knew in size and strength Ronon was more than enough for him.

"Well then, I'm just going to continue holding this knife to your vitals."

Ronon made a reach with his muscled arms, but Macara pressed in between Ronon's seventh and eighth, ready to punch up and in to the tangle of arteries and veins near the big man's heart.

"Learn some control, Dex." Macara muttered. Ronon tried again, but Macara repeated the trick.

No more than five seconds had passed, but it felt longer, much longer. Macara heard rifles cock and then felt the still-warm muzzle of a P-90 against his neck.

"Let him go, major, or I will shoot you," Teyla's gentle yet firm voice said behind the major's ear.

"Tell Dex to calm the hell down then,"

"Not a chance!" Ronon struggled, almost releasing the Commando from his grip in his attempt to reach Macara.

Macara let go suddenly, rolling away and bringing his Browning up, so that now the reinforced Royal Marines were facing Teyla and Ronon's group of maybe fifteen City security. None dropped their aim. Ronon still held the poor Commando against the wall.

Macara slowly took his rifle from a still shaken Allen.

"You know, I liked you at first. But maybe Sheppard is right about you major. You have no respect for anyone outside your own military, and you continue to make co-operation harder." Teyla said, trying to diffuse the situation.

Macara looked at his men, thought about Teyla's words and, not agreeing with a single one, ordered his men to rest their arms anyway. It took a few seconds more to get Ronon to reciprocate, finally letting go of Marine Martinson

By now, Hardy and his men had arrived and were taken aback by the face off. He had some thirteen RMs and the rest a mix of USM and city soldiers.

"What...?"

"Never mind. Let's go." Macara said quickly. All the RMC came over to him and shared out extra ammo in their STANAGs. Macara took an AG40 equipped L85 from one Marine, giving his weapon in return.

At first, not a single Atlantis personnel or USM followed. They kept their aim up, however, weapons trained the whole time.

"Sheppard is still fighting. We're going to help. Do what you want." Macara snapped and led his party away.

Ronon glared at the major's back, then looked at Teyla, who shrugged. "Maybe we should..."

"Listen, I do not care if you like or respect me, but we have to get the path to the ZPM room clear, and we need to re-initialize it to get the shield and drones back," Macara said firmly. Ronon stared at him, pure hatred in his eyes. But, to the surprise of everyone else, he nodded.

"He's right."

"Good. Let's go." Macara nodded himself.

* * *

After meeting heavy resistance of those larger wraith, Sheppard and Trang continue down the hallways with rifles blazing, in columns of two by two Sheppard and Trang paced side by side, firing their weapons as the columns of black ops covered their rear and sides.

"Macara still giving you Hell?" Trang whispered to Sheppard

"Damn guy is way too cocky..." Sheppard replied

"Well that's why he's a Major and you're a Lt. Colonel." Trang said. It had gone a lot quieter, and no more Wraith jumped to the attack.

"But Hell man, thinks he can do whatever he likes," Sheppard snapped.

"Weren't you just the same, and hell aren't we all the same? SF for life." Trang grinned.

"I don't know how you always see things like that." Sheppard sighed.

"We can resolve this after we get to the chair," Trang said in reply.

By the time they reached the chair room they had counted over fifty dead wraith, yet there was a large number of human dead, too.

"Collect tags and set up a 15m guard perimeter and I'll get the chair set up." Sheppard ordered

"Wilco" Trang replied slapping a fresh magazine in his ACR and M26

"Let's hope he got the ZPM running." Sheppard said, doubt in his voice.

The colonel sat in the seat, and nothing happened.

"Damn it…" he muttered trying to settle back and concentrate.

"Colonel, we've got trouble!" Trang bellowed. "More Wraith are on their way!" he called as the first Black Ops trooper fired his ACR.

Sheppard sat back to try again, but the chair had no power.

"Damn it, Macara," Sheppard hissed, picking up his rifle to join the fight.

* * *

"Move! Move!" Macara urged his men forward. Ronon's pistol flared, and another Wraith died.

The RMC and their American counterparts were fighting hard, and only two Drones stood between them and the ZPM room.

Quincannon hurled a grenade, settling the matter once and for all.

"Perimeter! Watch all corners and keep this room safe!" Macara ordered, dashing in with Ronon and Teyla.

Dead USMC lay scattered around, more Wraith corpses mixed with them. One Wraith had his hands on the ZPM, but was still slumped dead over the plinth.

Ronon kicked the body away, and Teyla grabbed the ZPM.

"Have you done this before?" Macara asked.

"Eh…no. But I have seen Doctor McKay do this many times…" she said. The Marine closed his eyes and winced as Teyla gently pushed the ZPM into its housing. There was a click, a loud hum, and the device powered up.

"That's it! We're done!" Macara shouted in triumph.

"What now?" Ronon asked.

"We need to make sure Trang get to the chair." Macara replied. "Teyla, Lieutenant Hardy, take half the men and hold here. The rest of you, with me and Dex. It'll be a sprint to the chair room, so only those of you who think you can keep up," Macara said. The relevant men stepped forward.

"Okay, time to finish this," Macara said, heading back the way they had come.

A moment later the first Ancient Drones lit the sky and headed for orbit.

* * *

**  
**"Sheppard?" Trang shouted over the fighting. He had four men left now, and the Wraith were pushing hard. They weren't stunning for feeding; these Wraith warriors were going for the kills, to get to the chair.

"He did it! The son of a bitch did it!" Sheppard called, settling back and firing a swarm of drones.

Caldwell sat back in his seat and sighed in relief. The Drones swarmed the Hives and tore them to ribbons. _Nightcrawler_ was already chasing down the last cruiser before it could escape and tell others of Atlantis location. But they had done it, if only just.

"Let McKay know, through his secure channel, he can drop the jamming,"

"Aye, sir!" Marks said with the sound of victory in his voice.

"Sheppard, we need another gun!" Trang barked.

The colonel jumped out of the seat and went to the barricade.

There were at least twenty Wraith. There was no way they could win out.

Sheppard lifted his rifle and fired. He would kill as many as he could.

* * *

Macara yelled at the shrunken company and the combination of two countries marines, dropped by to the nearest junction, Ronon with them.  
There was a heavy firefight, with maybe two dozen Wraith attacking one small point with a handful of defenders.

Macara knew Trang was in trouble, but his unit was now almost completely out of ammo.

"Come on, let's go!" Dex said, trying to move forward.

"Dex, we are almost out of ammo, and there are at least twenty Wraith still in there."  
Macara sighed. He knew they had to try. But what could they do?  
Quincannon looked at him and tapped the sheath at his side.

"Are you sure, sergeant-major?" Macara grimaced.

The Northern Irishman nodded again. "Save our ammo for when they're pinned on the end. The Sergeant Major stood. "Fix bayonets!"  
The RMC looked startled, but complied. The US marines just looked shocked.

"A bayonet charge? Are you kidding?" a USMC sergeant shouted. Quincannon turned with a disgusted look in his eye.

"Well, the Scots Guards and the Paras showed the Argies what for with the straight steel,"

"And the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders did it in Iraq a few years ago, too. Took only three wounded and killed 35 of the enemy," Hardy said, his voice quiet.

"They were human. Not aliens!" the USM sergeant replied.

"You do what you want. I think it's a great idea." Ronon grinned, drawing his sword.

"Any flashbangs left?" the major asked his nodded. They chose the 3 largest men and the grenades were hefted down the corridor. They gave it a few quick moments before Quincannon let out a bellow that Cuchulainn would have been proud of, before the twenty RMC and the dozen or so marines belted down the corridor.

* * *

The Wraith were all over the barricade. A kill-blast streaked by Trang's head, grazing and searing the flesh.

A Wraith punched him full force, easily breaking several of his ribs.

As Trang looked up from the floor, he saw some black objects clatter to the deck.

"Flashbangs!" Trang barked, and the two black ops left to him, and Sheppard, ducked desperately.

The grenades went off, the closest Wraith floundering. Trang and Sheppard took some disorientation, but missed the worst of it.  
The Wraith weren't completely disabled by the human stun weapon, their physiology protecting them, but were still taken by surprise and clasped hands to head to try and get the ringing out.  
Then the bayonets struck. The first nine Wraith took six inches of SA80 bayonet to the back and middle torso, at least three to each alien, before being finished off by point blank rounds through the head by the USMs following.  
The charge went on, and despite losing four Marine's to the sheer physical strength of the Wraith, the remaining aliens began falling back. Macara's men used their last rounds to chase them away.

Even as the Wraith fled or were destroyed, they fought on viciously. Two more marines were stunned, one lost an arm to a kill-blast.

The last shot from the Wraith missed Ronon by a hair's breadth and took Macara straight in the chest, burning through his armour.

In a world of pain, Macara collapsed and blacked out even as Ronon struggled to help him.  
.45 fire was heard from the other side of the barricade, and the final two creatures fell heavily to their knees even as they tried to flee, before slumping over. Trang struggled to his feet to stare at the carnage in the hall.

"You...didn't...bayonet charge, did you?" he managed before collapsing again.

"We need a medical team to level...." was the last words Trang heard before passing out.

* * *

As Macara groggily awoke, he heard hushed voices. The two speakers fell silent as they saw him come awake and struggle to a sitting position.  
Macara could see Teyla and Sheppard sitting up on Trang's bed. Ronon was stood in the corner, arms folded, glowering as usual. Rodney had been in, apparently, to moan at Macara a little but left when he realised it was lunch time.  
Sheppard was looking intently at him.  
"You saved the city, Major." The colonel said, almost reluctantly.

Macara shook his head weakly.

"You shouldn't have gone off base like you did, but if you hadn't, we wouldn't be here. Thank you." Sheppard said anyway.  
Macara looked over, embarrassed himself. Sheppard was holding out a hand to shake, and Teyla was smiling happily.  
Macara let a few moments pass, and let a little rejection set itself on Sheppard's features before taken the hand in a tight embrace.  
"I suppose I can forgive you. But you owe me a pint."

"You're not free and dry anyway. The SGC will no doubt want to slap your wrist for this," Sheppard said.

"Or worse," Weir spoke up for the first time, not quite able to hide the disappointment in her voice at Macara's actions.

Ronon snorted at that comment, and looked down at Macara.  
"No hard feeling big guy?" Macara asked warily. Ronon just cocked an eyebrow.  
"He actually quite likes you now. Wants' you to show him some....'dirty tricks'.....to go with his technique." Teyla whispered.  
"That'll be right," Macara grunted.  
"I'll be going now anyway," Sheppard said. "I'm not quite as exhausted as you lot. We'll see you both later."  
Macara just nodded. However, didn't mean he'd do what he was told. Not by some yank, at least.

"And you'll have to tell me why you tried to reject this medal major Trang told us about," Teyla said a little louder than Macara would have liked.

"Whatever. I'll see you all later. Sheppard, Guinness extra cold mate!" Macara called out as the team left the room."Cheers Vic. Nice work there bud...." Macara snorted with a little bit of anger once the rest had left.

"Well, Nathan, they had to know you weren't some coward. And I wasn't going to let your damn British pride split the command staff and the city defenders in two. Get used to it; we have to work together." Trang said warningly.

Macara paused. "I know. But I do not take orders from your lot unless specifically told so by MY superiors, or maybe Landry, mainly because I respect him. As soon as Sheppard's silver oak leaf becomes a crown and order star, I'll gladly obey his orders. Until then, they are only requests that I will perform if they are in the best interests of the city and my people in it."  
Trang sighed. It was the best he was going to get. For the moment, at least.


	5. Chapter 5

The trees blew gently in the breeze....nothing else disturbed the calm peace...grass bent slightly under the winds light touch. Clouds drifted overhead. A place of pure peace.  
But it didn't last. The great ring had been silent, but started moving. Lights came on and it began to turn.  
In an instant, a blue pool had formed and a large object shot through heading higher into a patrol pattern.  
Major Trang sat in the cockpit of the puddle jumper. He was the only other military aboard, after the pilot, reduced to no more than a taxi driver for the scientists and surveyist inside.  
"When do you think we can land. It looks a beautiful place," one asked him nervously. Trang snorted.  
"When I've established that it is safe to do so, and not before, ma'am. Now stop back seat driving and let me do my job."  
Trang had the hud up and was scanning foliage and everything round about.  
The gate was still open, and he had a link to Atlantis.  
"Well, major? See anything your passenger like?" Sheppard's voice came across the comm.  
"Too much. Looking for a safe place to put down, sir."  
"Very good. Keep at it."  
Trang had seen a likely clearing, but he didn't make major in the SF by going headfirst into something he didn't know. He took up a circular pattern above, just to be careful.  
His caution, it seemed, was not to be rewarded. A projectile shot out, little more than fifty metres away. It looked for all the world like an RPG contrail.....The alarms in the jumper blared, and he pulled away, but the rocket hit and punctured a nasty hole in the side of the compartment, not to mention shearing a drive pod off. Smoke poured from the wound in the Jumper's side, and she started to spin.  
"Ah, hell..." Trang cried, trying to keep the jumper aflight. The people in the back were calling out, some sobbing, and Trang looked at the women he had just spoken to. The look said, without a doubt, "Told you so,"  
"Mayday, mayday, this is Trang. We have been fired on and are going down...mayday, mayday...."  
The jumper hovered in the air for a moment, like the character in a cartoon on the edge of a cliff, before plummeting into the clearing.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Sheppard barked.  
"I don't know, sir," the hapless comm operator shrugged.  
"Where is the _Daedalus_ now, John?" Doctor Weir asked from Sheppard's side.  
"Too far away. We have to send a team in."  
"But there could be enemy waiting at the other side of the gate." Weir said.  
"Elizabeth, I know, but we can't leave them there. Get me a meeting with the other officers. I want to know their thoughts."

It took less than ten minutes to assemble the relevant soldiers. Two city security, three USMC and of course, Major Macara and his lieutenant(say luff-tenant).  
"So, that's the situation. Any thoughts?"  
"Send in a team, get them out, punish whoever did it with extreme prejudice," Macara said quietly.  
"There is a danger any team to go through will be ambushed as they walk through the gate," Sheppard spoke, "It's happened before now..."  
"I've studied those files, sir," Macara stressed the word slightly. He was getting on better with Sheppard, but still liked to make sure John new his authoritative boundaries. "And I've been creating an action plan based on an assault through a gate into heavy fire."  
"And the jumper had been flying for a good seven minutes before the gate closed and we received their mayday." Lieutenant Hardy offered his opinion. "I don't think the enemy were waiting on the other side."  
"They could be now," one city security said.  
Sheppard looked at the British major for a moment. "That sounds interesting. But major, we cannot risk lives on an untried method..." Sheppard trailed off meaningfully...  
Macara smiled slightly, knowing what Sheppard was hinting at.  
"Of course, sir. However, as UK military superior here, I am willing to take the risk if my subordinates are."  
One of the USMC officers, a competent man by the name of Bertier, spoke up. "Aren't your marines due to go home for a six month spell?"  
"Yes. But we can have this done and wrapped up before hand," Macara smiled disarmingly.  
"It's settled then. Major, would you like to divulge any of your plan?"  
"No." Macara said simply, but not rudely.

* * *

Apart from a few cuts and bruises, Major Trang woke up to the sounds of cries of pain. The Major looked around and saw all the scientists tossing and turning around and the pilot trying to help them.  
"Status report..." Trang groaned  
"Jumper is done, whatever hit us took out our right side of the hull...but everyone is okay..." the pilot replied.  
"Are we gonna be okay Major! There's smoke everywhere and there's a few holes in the Jumper..." a frantic scientist shuddered.  
The Major looked around the Jumper and exited with the pilot, and then he looked back into the Jumper, and looked into the surrounding forest.  
"Tell the tech guys to get anything online ASAP, but first get the DHD online so we can radio for help and send coordinates." Trang ordered, "Then arm them with M9s and M4s...I'm going to scout out the surroundings. I'll be back in 15 mins max."  
"Yes sir." the pilot replied and ran back into the Jumper.  
The Major hefted his carbine and started to trek into the forest.

* * *

Two RM patrol teams, 8 men strong each, waited to go through the gate.  
"You sure this will be enough?" Sheppard asked.  
"No. But wait," Macara looked at his watch.  
"We should go soon. There is incoming traffic from Midway soon...." Sheppard started.  
Before he could finish, the gate flared into life. The puddle formed and a comm came through.

"_British contingent arriving,_" the disembodied voice of the Puddle Jumper pilot echoed through their comm. sets.  
The shield lowered, and one by one four Puddle Jumpers entered Atlantis. The first of Macara's replacements had arrived.  
Sheppard and Weir stood in the gate room waiting for the new arrivals to come down the stairs from the Jumper bay.  
"This'll be easier when they have turned Midway into a proper space station," Sheppard muttered dryly.  
"What were you expecting, colonel? Deep Space 9?" Weir replied. Sheppard just grinned.  
A small captain came through the doors of the Jumpers, followed by ten, then twenty, then finally fifty short, unimpressive looking men in British combat '95 fatigues, webbing belts and...Terai slouch hats?  
"Who….?" Weir began.  
The men were all oriental/Asian appearance, and they had kukris, long curved knives, on their belts.  
"The Gurkhas. A company of the 1st Battalion the Royal Gurkha rifles." Macara said fondly.  
The captain approached him, and Macara greeted him warmly.  
"Subedar Gaje Rai," Macara used the Indian term for captain, as he always did, when speaking with Rai. Technically the British Gurkha's were just the same ranks as any other UK officer, but he liked the familiarity.  
"Major Macara, how are you? Are your men ready to head home?"  
"In a day or so. But, we have a situation the Yanks don't want to handle, so I need your help."  
Rai raised an eyebrow.  
"Give me two sections of men please, and a medium machinegun team. We're going hunting."  
Rai smiled a huge infectious grin.  
"No problem, sir. When do you need them?" he asked, eyeing the already equipped Marines.  
"Dial the gate." The major said as his reply.

Sheppard waited with the other Atlantis staff. Ronon walked by, armed to the teeth.  
"Where are you going?" John sighed.  
"With them," Ronon pointed to the Gurkhas and Marines.  
Sheppard just nodded. He'd given up arguing with Ronon.  
Macara nodded too when Ronon appeared. He didn't feel like questioning the Satedan.  
"Okay, sergeant major!" Macara bellowed.  
"Fire in the hole." the Northern Irishman grinned  
Two Marines with AG40's fired into the gate. A few seconds later, four threw flashbangs and smoke grenades through. Then AG grenades again, followed finally by more smoke.  
"This was Macara's plan?" Weir said in angst.  
Sheppard just laughed.  
"Okay, move, move!" Macara bellowed.  
The two lines of Marines dashed into the wormhole, a metre and a half between the files. Then the Gurkhas, twenty men(a squad as the US calls them, with two additional machine gun crews) followed.  
"Good hunting." Sheppard muttered.

* * *

Trang had only gone maybe two hundred yards through the dense foliage before he heard some foot movement coming towards him as he passed a large tree. He took cover and peaked out the corner. Just coming into view were two men, armed with what looks to be SMGs...in Genii uniform? The Special Forces Major snuck around them, keeping low and silent, going for a closer look, he then hefted his carbine and looked through his ACOG scope. Genii uniform but, with some sort of symbol on it.

Trang checked his timepiece, and made ready to return to the Jumper, when suddenly his radio went off.

"_Sir? The tech guys are working on the DHD but-_" Trang turned off his radio before the pilot could finish, but he damage was done. The two men quickly turned around and leveled their SMGs at the brush where Trang was hiding.  
"Come out now! Drop any weapons and put your hands on your head!" one of them barked.  
Trang didn't argue, simply dropping his rifle and walking towards them.

"Where are the rest?" one man, tall, slim but wearing the tattered remains of a uniform, asked.  
"The rest?" Trang replied coolly. The slim man prodded him with the SMG.

"The other's in the ship that crashed," he said, prodding again.

Trang brought his arms down onto the SMG and pulled him forward, before he jumped and brought his knee into the Genii's stomach. As the man fell, Trang swung the SMG round and fired into the second Genii, emptying the magazine for good measure. The major threw the empty weapon away, and kicked the slim Genii in the back of the head, making sure he was out cold.

Trang then turned on his radio and was surprised to hear the pilot still talking, "..._and so the Polish guy says the DHD should be up in....._"  
"Dammit Airman, you did not even _notice_ I had the radio off!" Trang snapped  
"_Oh? you did...why sir?_" the Airman replied puzzled.  
"Took care of some rogue Genii. Quick, clean and quiet..." Trang sighed and picked up his carbine, "I'll meet you back at the Jumper. Stay put and stay quiet...and stop talking, will yah?"  
"_Umm yes sir..._" the Airman replied.

* * *

On the other side of the Gate, the UK troops charged into an empty field, covered now with cordite smoke, with trees only a few metres away. No fire answered their arrival.  
"Secure the area!" Quincannon called out. Marines dashed to the tree cover.  
"Captain Rai, We are going to find the jumper. If you and your men could secure this area," Macara saw the angry look on Rai's face that he knew so well and held a hand to calm him. "Then when we have found the enemy, we will radio to you and request your assistance in putting them down? Agreed."  
Rai beamed again, before shouting in Nepalese to the Gurkhas. They all spoke English, but only when they had to.  
"Very good. Okay, boys, let's go," Macara moved off into the brush with his commandos.

* * *

A few minutes later Trang reemerged from the forest, and the Airman was waiting for him, but before he said a word, Trang barked his orders.

"We're gonna have company soon, and we're gonna give them a welcome remember us by. Arm the scientists with automatic weapons, but set them to semi only...we're gonna be outnumbered and out gunned and we're digging in."

In a few minutes, Major Trang was able to set up formidable defensive firing position; the airman with a M249 LMG, a 3 man fire team armed with standard M4A1s, scientists that have never fired a gun in their lives now armed with M4s, and at the rear was the Major himself, kneeling upon the large tree stump with 3 AT4s by his side and an extra M4A1 with 5 clips.

There were 2 more scientists hunkered in the jumper with M4s, and the last two were busy at work on the DHD, with the door sealed and armed with M9s.

"This could be a one sided fight, but Hell, at least we have the element of surprise..." Trang muttered to himself. "I knew I should have packed the M26 with me...could use some buckshot in a place like this..." he continued ranting. Trang took one more look round before calling out to his makeshift squad.

" Remember to fire in only Semi-Auto only! Fire in controlled bursts, only engage the targets when they come in at you at less than 100 metres, anything else will be a waste of rounds inn that tree line. Aim for the larger mass!" Trang called out last minute encouragement. He had gone over it already, but he knew that if you heard simple, obvious commands just before combat, you were more likely to remember than during a full briefing.  
"HERE THEY COME!" the Airman yelled and sent a burst of 5.56mm into the brush.

A whole mob of the badly attired Genii stormed out of the tree line towards the Jumper.  
The 3 scientists fired their M4s in semi and were surprised at the soft kick their carbines gave them...the Major fired his ACR in semi as well, and dropped the attackers one by one with straight shots into the chest from 200m, zooming in with his scope....the fight _was_ going one sided, but his side had the upper hand for now.

* * *

After an hour of fighting, the fire started to die down and everyone was still one piece...  
"Ammo check!" the Major barked.

The airman had half a drum left for his M249, and 3 clips left for his M9, the two scientists nearest him had two 30 round mags left each, the other two at the Jumper had a couple of mags each, and the Major had two mags for his ACR. Also, one of the scientists, a Canadian surveyor, had taken an unlucky ricochet through the eye, dropping the number of defenders. Not a good situation if the Genii attacked again.

"_Sir, we got the DHD up and we're going to dial Atlantis right now..._" a tech guy radioed in  
"Wilco, make it quick we need reinforcements ASAP..." the Major replied.

Suddenly, there was a strange whirling sound, before a large mass of men rushed out of the forest firing their SMGs at the defense line.  
"Return fire!" Trang yelled and he raised his ACR and fired at the mass in controlled bursts cutting the first line as his M249 gunner mowed down as much as he can, and the scientists were firing their M4s at anything that moved towards them. Then the whirling sounds in the air came closer and louder...and Trang knew it was already too late.  
"Mortars! Take cover!" Trang yelled and he got up and dropped his empty ACR and grabbed an M4 and began firing at the Genii, before an explosion turned his world dark.

* * *

"What was that?" Macara breathed. He and his men had been scouting the woods when the gunfire started, and had made best time for the location. They had, however, been moving completely the opposite way and were forced to double back. They were now reaching an area close to the gate again.

"Sounds like mortars, sir," a sergeant whispered back.

Macara nodded, the sergeant confirming what he thought.

"Right, move out, now!" he said, and started off again.

* * *

The Genii commander walked round the wrecked jumper. His uniform was stained, dirty, torn and carried a strange symbol where the Genii mark should be.  
Genii in equally tattered uniforms stood around the clearing, collecting empty and half used magazines. A pair walked over to within three metres of a huge, felled tree that was all holes and dirt and roots, to grab an Earth pistol.  
"See what you can salvage from this! Get their weapons and ammo!" he spat.  
It was only an hour since the fight had finished, but already his men had already taken the hostages to their camp. Two bodies remained; one of the airman, the other of the horribly wounded scientist who had died on the spot whilst the Genii tramped back to their camp. The Genii leader had ranted and raved that his men had left the crash site unguarded, but when he had returned with the majority of his forces, nothing had changed. He had also had his numerous men police the bodies. Seventeen of his own men killed and twice that wounded by the Lanteans. That only served to enrage him further.  
The others were all heavily wounded from the firefight, but at the camp their wounds would be treated well enough. Well enough to survive, maybe not comfortably.  
"See what these Lanteans think of us? They send only civilians to spy on us!" the commander started shouting. He ranted then, and his men round him joined in.  
"They can come, but we will kill them all!" he shouted. "They took away our leader Kolya, but we will make them pay! They took away our pride and our home, but we will make them suffer!" he cried out  
Holding his gun aloft, he gestured into the forest and the group, some forty strong at least, ran into the trees.

From the huge stump of the felled tree, figures broke form the darkness, like shadows come to life.  
Three men appeared, all with L85s and combat '95s. They had dark green berets on their heads.  
The three Marines looked around, secured the jumper and then gestured sharply.  
From the brush around and in the clearing, thirteen more Royal Marines appeared.  
It was Major Macara's unit.

"Right, we need to follow after them quickly, or we'll never find their camp." the major whispered.  
His men plunged into the forest behind the Genii, who were making so much noise even a USM could have tracked them.

* * *

Captain Rai and his men received a hush radio call. It was the signal to move out.  
Grabbing his squad's attention silently, Rai led his Gurkhas forward, glad of the opportunity for a fight.  
Ronon, who had been left behind with the Gurkhas, stood (towering above them all) and followed after the captain, unaware of the jokes spoken quietly in khaskura bhasha about his height.

* * *

The lone Marine waded through the side stream, aiming left and right as he went. Despite having many deep, easy tracks to follow, the Genii party had entered the dirty river and when they came out the other side, had been much more careful.  
The lone RM waded on, looking for tracks on the bank. The trees here were thicker, hanging over the river and stream, almost forming a tunnel.  
As he turned a corner, he came face to face with a Genii who was relieving himself by a tree. The Genii, in filthy, torn clothes, grabbed up his SMG and aimed it at the marine, who in return trained his rifle on the target. The Genii gestured with his SMG, calling for the Marine to drop his own weapon. The lone Marine was silent.  
A Mexican standoff had begun.  
The marine couldn't open fire, because he would alert the other Genii in their camp. The genii couldn't fire because....well, actually, there was no reason he hadn't yet shot the Marine yet.  
Things were tense, and the trigger on the SMG tightened. The Marine stoically remained calm.  
As, from all sides, Royal Marines appeared out of the brush and surrounded the Genii.  
"Hi there!" Quincannon said jovially, grabbing the terrified man......

* * *

The village was quite picturesque, a place of peaceful life.  
Until the Genii had come. They had made the village into an armed camp, and the locals now kept the armed men fed and....entertained.  
Lorrelle was the village medic. Well, at least that's how she saw herself.  
She had vast knowledge of herbs and their properties, but she was an outcast in her village.  
She knew about her uncle's....'secret' and she had revealed it to some Lanteans several months ago. Their shame at harbouring a wraith worshipper....  
The Lanteans had relocated them to a safer world, but the villagers had never really forgiven her. They had moved away from the other village the Lanteans had placed them in, fearful of spying or reprisals, and settled on this world instead.  
And now, once more, their peace was disturbed by armed men.  
The Genii treated the women of the village foully, beat the men into submission and had forced Lorrelle into a medical role.  
Now the pretty young women was treating several humans who seemed to be from Atlantis. That gave her new hope of being saved.  
As she walked, one Genii grabbed her from behind.  
She turned to face the Commander, Merton.  
"How are the prisoners?"  
"One has passed away, but the rest are alive...." she got no further before Merton's blow knocked her to the floor, and she dropped her basket of herbs.  
"Let no more die. Or you will pay, as will your village!" he shouted, before trudging off to the makeshift pub that had been created in the village elders hut.  
Lorrelle picked up as much as she could, but before she could summon the energy to stand again, she burst into renewed tears at her predicament, and lay on the ground a little longer.

Macara looked at the village. It was obvious that civilians lived here.  
It was more obvious still what had been going on. There was a small pile of local bodies, showing what these Rogue Genii had been doing.  
"Was that you lot?" Macara growled quietly at the genii prisoner.  
"Yes..."  
"And you that killed our civilian scientists?"  
The man thought to lie for a moment, but replied. "....yes..."  
"Quincannon, take him, and Ronon, into the bush. Do not come back with him." Macara said ruthlessly.  
"Sir, surely...." Quincannon started.  
"Do it. Don't kill him, beat him, tie him up and we'll get him later."  
Quincannon sighed, glad his major wasn't telling him to commit murder.  
The major made a quick series of sketches, then shared a quiet word with Rai, and then Ronon when the big man returned.  
"Forty men on the beach, and at least ten here to stop the civvies getting out of hand. Reasonable guess, we have fifty at the least. They all seem to have SMGs or pistols." Macara said quickly.  
"Discipline seems poor. And most of them are getting drunk," Ronon gestured with his gun at the 'pub' hut.  
"We can take them," Rai fingered the hilt of his kukri in anticipation. "They've been terrifying and murdering these civilians,"  
Macara nodded, and told them his plan, using the sketches to illustrate his points.  
"We're agreed?"  
"Yes." Ronon said simply.  
"Yes, sir," Rai said more formally.  
"Good." Macara nodded.  
The Marines and Gurkhas spread out, and waited for dark.


	6. Chapter 6

It seemed the Genii posted guards. Not very good guards, but guards none the less.  
Five men at staggered points around the village.  
It was very dark, and they could barely see a metre in front of them.  
The first man peered into the black under growth. He definitely couldn't see anything.  
He turned around, looking back at the huts of the village, wishing he was in them, drinking and having fun.  
He felt something on his boot then.  
He looked down to see what it was. To his amazement, he saw a hand feeling his boot laces.  
The second it took him to realise what was happening was too long. The Gurkha, who had felt the boots to make sure he was taking out an enemy and not one of the Marines in the dark, drew his kukri back once.  
The same happened to the other four men, two more falling to Gurkhas and two to Fairburn-Sykes commando knives.  
The perimeter clear, the Earth forces moved in.  
Macara stationed his four minimi's and his Gurkha crewed GPMGs so all were facing the doors they had watched the Genii come and go from most. Other Marines and Gurkhas spread round the huts, entering those they had identified as civilian only.  
Macara checked his timepiece. Thirteen seconds.  
The last men were in place, their orders precise. If it didn't have a weapon, or Genii clothing, it didn't get shot.  
"Stand by," he whispered into his radio. "Stand by," again.  
3...2....1  
"Go go go!" he called.  
A flare went up, lighting the whole village.  
The first tipsy Genii staggered out, weapons not quite ready.  
A Gurkha minimi scythed them down.  
From the 'barrack' huts, as Rai had dubbed them, more Genii ran out. These too were gunned down quickly and efficiently, the Gurkhas showing no mercy.  
Marines and Gurkhas, in the civilian huts, protecting the villagers, fired from the windows into the 'pub', bringing down any genii they saw.  
After about thirty Genii had ran outside and been killed or injured in the first minute and forty-three seconds of the Ambush. The rest decided to stay inside and make a fight of it. Their SMGs fired back, the 9mm rounds making a mockery of the hut walls where the Gurkhas and Marines hid.  
The 5.56 belched back, and the Genii, most tired, many drunk, were losing.  
"Advance!" Macara radioed, and groups of four, mixed between Gurkhas and green tops, cleared the buildings. Smoke grenades and flashbangs were thrown, and more Genii fell. It was quick and clinical.  
One Gurkha was shot in the chest, falling in a heartbeat. The three men in the building didn't get a chance to do much else as a sergeant and several Gurkha riflemen charged in, Kukri's raised.  
A Marine was wounded in the hip next to Macara, and landed on the ground with a thud.  
"Give me the minimi," the injured man said to Macara's gunner, switching for his rifle. "I'll cover from here,"  
The major nodded then moved on quickly.  
He crashed through the door of the next room, and fired at the two armed figures inside. He ushered Ronon and three marines in.  
He heard then a familiar voice.  
"Cease fire!" Trang bellowed from his place chained to the wall.  
Macara stopped short and took in the whole sight.  
Four injured scientists and Trang were tethered in the room, being treated by a small, pretty villager.  
"Ronon, secure the prisoners, please. I'm going on."  
Ronon went to protest, but Macara gave him a look that even Ronon wouldn't argue with.  
The last defenders were holed up in the 'pub', with angry Gurkhas encroaching closer and closer.  
Macara bellowed for a cease fire, then called inside.  
"Surrender now and we will spare you. Our laws of combat do not allow us to kill prisoners."  
The answer he got in return was less colloquial. It was followed by gunfire.  
"Guess I got my answer then. Corporal, grenades!"  
Three frag were thrown inside. Macara didn't want to use them, but this had to end, now.  
Rai led a fireteam through the door, and Macara heard a few shots fired. Then, nine Genii ran out, hands in the air, and stopped before his Marines. Macara smiled. If there was one thing you never did, it was piss off a Gurkha.  
The major entered the hut and stood with Rai.  
"Where's their leader?" he asked. He hadn't seen him, but had recognised the voice from the beach as the one that had replied to his offer of surrender.  
"Don't know, sir. We're looking now...." Rai fell sort as a pistol round took him in the back. On the ground in the hut, an injured man had a pistol.  
Mertan.  
"This is only the beginning!" Mertan howled.  
Macara emptied the magazine into him. "And now, it's finished."  
Rai struggled to a sitting position. He was in pain, winded, but the round had skimmed of the hilt of his kukri, shattering it.  
"Bastardd broke my kukri!" he coughed as he regained his composure.  
Macara smiled and embraced the small warrior happily.  
"Police the area," he ordered. "I'm going to see Trang."

"So, in short, sir, she should come with us," Trang said. The SF major was speaking of the girl, Lorrelle. "She kept us safe."  
"But this is your home, " Macara said. "Don't you want to stay here?"  
Lorrelle blushed, but then told him of what befell her.  
"You mean you're the girl form mission file 376-Epsilon?"  
"If that means you know about this incident, then yes," was the simple reply.  
"We should take her back, Nathan."  
Macara paused. "She has great local knowledge, knows plants and herbs from all over. Her experience will be invaluable." Trang said again.  
Nathan relented, though he got the feeling that Vic Trang and taken a shine to the pretty face and friendly personality as much as the medicinal experience. But the argument was good enough. Macara could see that Lorrelle would come in useful to the expedition.  
"Right, we take her back, and we take the prisoners and wounded. But we go out tonight."  
"Sir! Sir!" Rai's sergeant ran in quickly. "Sahib, we found this on the leader."  
The small NCO handed a sheaf of papers to the Scottish major.  
Macara read the top one quickly. His eyes widened.  
It was a plan for an assault on the Atlantis alpha site, before continuing on to the city itself. They had planned every detail, including how to assault the Alpha site without them alerting Atlantis, and how to use the IDC to get into the city.  
He showed it to Ronon and Trang.  
"We go now. Sheppard has to hear this."  
Within twenty minutes, the Gurkhas and Marines were on their way back to the gate, Lorrelle and prisoners in tow.

* * *

Major Trang brushed off some dirt and blood of his shoulder and vest, there was much to be done and little time to do so. Macara gave him a carbine and a pistol, an L22A2 and a Sig P226.  
"Glad to see your still one piece, Vic. But you think the IOA would be pretty pissed with their scientists dead?" Macara muttered to Trang.  
"They fought hard, Nate. I just can't believe the Genii killed them all. And I don't know why they didn't kill me."Trang replied.  
"You are an officer, they obviously thought you knew something of value. To be honest, I can't remember you knowing _anything_ of value. Ever." Macara sarcastically replied  
"Laugh it up, Limey, laugh it up," Trang muttered, grinning.

The fire team left the camp and by the time they got to the gate. The DHD was busted, a few bullet holes in it.  
"Shit!" Macara yelled and kicked the broken DHD, "And the Jumper is already blown! Bloody Hell!"  
Trang looked at the surroundings and noticed the ground...full of tracks.  
"Dammit...I would say around 50 men went through that gate....but where? They wouldn't attack the Alpha Site with only 50 men and let alone no IDC."  
"When is the next radio checkup?" Macara asked Quincannon.  
"1 hour..." the CSM replied.  
"Damn, we'll have to wait this out then." Macara muttered.  
The gate suddenly burst into action. The dials hummed, and the wormhole exploded outward for an instant, before settling into the ring. The fire teams turned and trained their weapons into the gate and then radio chatter went off. It was Atlantis.

"You're early," Macara muttered.

"_Sheppard wanted an extra check in, major, knowing you were going into combat,_" Weir's voice came across his radio.

"That was pretty damned smart, actually," Macara said to himself. "We need a pair of Jumpers, ma'am. The DHD is down,"

"_It'll be about half an hour before we can send one through, major. I'll have to round up a pilot, and get two that are still working," Weir replied. "Is there anything else?_"

"As a matter of fact…." Macara said, launching into a full story of what the Genii had planned.

Weir announced that she was sending Sheppard to Alpha site, and that Macara was to join him as soon as possible. The gate went dead then, and Macara turned to his men.

"You've got an easy half hour. Make the most of it,"

* * *

Ronon sat in the passenger area of the first Jumper, looking at Lorrelle for several long minutes as they waited for the second Jumper to arrive.  
"I thought we put you all on P2X 386?"  
Lorrelle shrugged uncomfortably.  
"They didn't want you to have any way of finding them so we moved on again." She muttered.  
Ronon just shook his head.  
"And look at the trouble you got yourselves into. "Do you know anything about these rogue Genii?" Ronon asked next.  
Macara came back from the pilot's area. "Get ready to go through the gate." He warned them  
Ronon waited for an answer from Lorrelle  
"All I know is there a lot of them, well, before you arrived here tonight, and they don't like you very much."  
Ronon went to reply, but the jumper was already being pulled through the gate...

* * *

"Why the hell are we in Atlantis?" Trang shouted as the Gurkhas and Marines stepped out of the jumper, the others on foot following through behind the machine.

Macara looked back at him calmly.

"I have twenty four able bodied troops, three dead and five injured. We are low on ammo. I would rather get more guns, more ammo and more troops then set a nice little trap for those Genii."

"But they could be there now!"

"Ah, no," a voice, rather too smug, sounded. They rounded on the arrogant face of McKay, standing with the Gate Operations staff.

"Why not?" Trang bellowed .

"Well, after your report, Sheppard got in contact with the Alpha site. No gate activity. For the moment we believe that they fled from your forces and are getting ready to attack. John went to the world to prepare. He took a ten man team. He would like Major Macara to follow as soon as possible."

"Why not Trang?" Macara wondered aloud.

Rodney gave a look that intimated that it was blindingly obvious.

"Do you command a space ship, major?"

"...No...."

"Do you have beaming tech in those ridiculously heavy Bergen's you carry around?

"...No..."

"Well, Sheppard wants Major Trang to rendezvous with the _Nightcrawler_ on its mission to scout the Asuran planet and bring it to the alpha sight. Just in case we need her fire power. I would have thought you military types could figure something like that out?"

Macara started towards McKay, who jumped back, his smug look replaced by pure fear. Trang held an arm out to stop the Scotsman.

Trang chuckled. "Fine. I'll head through the gate to the nearest world then board _Nightcrawler_." Trang stalked away to find clean clothes.

Macara gathered his men round. "Get more ammo, fresh rations and uniforms. Wounded to the infirmary. Captain Rai, get twenty five of your men, including those who were with us tonight, meet me here in twenty minutes."

The men saluted and ran off to complete their business.

"Major, a word?" Weir's voice sounded.

"Shite" Macara breathed.

* * *

"Why did you not ask before bringing her back?" Weir asked angrily.

"Because I didn't," Macara replied calmly.

"She could be working for the Genii!"

Ronon stood up then, answering for the major. "We know Lorrelle. She wanted to join us before, but you wouldn't let her. Why not let her join up?"

Weir sighed. "We know nothing about her...."

"Actually, we now know a lot about Lorrelle. Not to mention how helpful she could be with the new medic who replaced Carson," Macara said. "She knows all about the various herbs and plants around Pegasus. Think how useful that would be!"

Weir sighed again. "I will interview her, and get Teyla's opinion. But you have a job to do now, Major. Get to it!"

Macara saluted sharply and walked out the room.

"Ronon, stay here." Weir asked politely.

"But I..."

"Please?" Weir gave him one of those looks. "You want Lorrelle to stay, you stay here and help me get the facts about here."

"Fine...." Ronon grumped.

* * *

Macara walked into the RM mess. "Okay, you guys are heading to Midway on your rotation out in three hours. So, that's why I am going to ask for volunteers only, to come with me and captain Rai's Gurkhas...."

All forty seven Marines capable of duty stood.

"Let me finish," Macara growled. "I need twenty men. The rest of you have no obligation to stay. You are going home for rotation. Twenty men, that's all."

The men all remained on their feet.

Macara chuckled.

"Okay. Thank you for the vote of confidence, so I'm going to choose the sections," Macara rhymed off the names. "Grab chow, ammo and Bergen's. Don't know how long we'll be there. I want minimis, LAWs and Marine Bennett, you better hope that your new L115A3 scope is as good as you say, because there are a lot of trees at alpha site.

"Yes, sir," Bennett grinned.

"The rest of you, pack and leave! Enjoy your holiday. I will see you in 3 months!" Macara said. He looked at the faces, and wondered if he'd see them all again.

"Here we go again," Quincannon groaned as the strike force went through the gate. 20 USM, brave men all, 25 RGR and the best infantry in the world, 20 RMC, went through the gate.

* * *

"Glad your here, major. We decided to abandon this camp after all," Sheppard said, pointing at the large tents being collapsed all around. "Really, we should have after the Michael incident when he found out the location of all our outposts, but this world is a good staging post and possibilities of mining material," Sheppard said, as if trying to justify their continued presence.

"So, we are going to hold off the Genii until everyone's out of here?" Macara asked.

"Yes. We also..."

"Incoming wormhole!" a USM shouted. All weapons were trained on the gate at the other end of the camp.

Nothing came through, and everyone relaxed for a moment.

Then the noise of a Dart could be heard, and before anyone could pinpoint the direction, the Dart had sped through the gate, only one City Security trooper firing his P90 in time to wing the Dart.

"Damn it! The Wraith have been spying on us the whole time!" Sheppard said a second after realisation hit him. "We're in big trouble. Dial Atlantis and get them to send _Daedalus_ back here,"

"She'll never make it, "Macara muttered.

"If Caldwell reaches us in time, he and Trang can hold off the Wraith. Damn!" Sheppard shouted, stalking off to help pack the expensive gear.

"Captain Rai!" Macara shouted. "Get your men in a perimeter around the gate with the Yankee Marines. Anything that doesn't squawk ID get's a bullet."

"Yes, sir." Rai saluted, his face splitting with another of his ready grins

* * *

The gate flared into life, the kawoosh extending outward for an instant.

"Sheppard, here they come," Macara whispered into his radio. He received the acknowledgment clicks.

Rai's Gurkhas were spread out with some of the USMs. The other RMC and city security were all with Sheppard and some USM gunners, waiting the arrival of any air attack. They were currently divvying out AA weapons and setting up HMG positions.

The first Genii came through the gate.

"Hold fire. Wait until enough come through that the others don't simply shut down the gate," Sheppard quietly radioed. Once again, affirmation clicks, this time from Rai.

As the genii numbers grew to a dozen, then twenty, Macara gave the order.

The minimi's and GPMG opened up first, followed by the assault rifles of the troops.

The Genii didn't stand a chance. The first twenty fell in the time it took to pull the trigger once.

More came through, only to find their path blocked by a hail of bullets.

The fusillade continued for almost ten minutes, before the gate shut down.

Six or seven Genii were still alive, all wounded in some way.

"Cease fire! Medics out!" Macara called. The rest of the makeshift-platoon covered the three medics who went to help.

There was cordite and blood in the air. A small fire had started amongst some dry alien pine needles.

Macara watched his men begin to police the genii bodies, and his mind went back three years....

Back to Afghanistan....

_The small convoy wound through the streets of the town in southern Helmand. It was made of two WMIKS and a pair of Vikings, with the added support of a FV510Warrior IFV(infantry fighting vehicle, for the uninitiated). The Viking was an amphibious transport, used mostly by the RM, their counterpart to the army's Mastiff._

_The Royal Marine patrol group had been out for three days now. They had found nothing, and captain Macara was growing restless._

_That changed quickly._

_There was three loud explosions, a muffled cry of "RPG!" and then smoke, fire and pain._

_Macara dragged himself from the Viking to see the side armour on the left cab. The anti-rocket grill had done a good job saving the crew, but the vehicle had still taken damage to its tracks, and wouldn't move._

_Already the Marines had dispersed and were setting up a perimeter. the WMIK's were laying down a murderous support fire, and the Warrior's 30mm was pulverizing buildings were AK fire came from._

_The Warrior had taken some damage too, but the RPGs had mainly bounced from its appliqué armour._

_The Warrior went to the side of the immobilised Viking, ready to delivers it's transported squad into the thick of the fighting, when disaster struck._

_The IED went off, taking a good portion of armoured vehicle with it. The Warrior slew to a stop, and smoke appeared from the interior. Flames licked up its side._

_The rest of the Marines were already pushing the insurgents back, but it was a hellish fight._

_Macara saw the back door of the Warrior quiver, but not move._

_The hatch was stuck._

_The captain dashed across the open ground, terrified of the IED that would go off and take him with it._

_Miraculously, he reached the side of the Warrior. He could see the bent opening handle that was stopping the door moving._

_With a few 'dunts' from his rifle butt, he freed the door._

_Bullets racked over his position, but the captain pulled the door open._

_The passengers and crew who could move dashed for cover under his order._

_Grabbing one of the wounded, leaving the second man to a corporal's care, Macara dashed into the walled area next to one building the Marines had taken control of. More rounds flickered by their heads, taking pieces from the dry-mud walls._

_Macara put the man down, and turned back to look at the Warrior._

_The corporal had been shot in the thigh and shoulder. Both wounded were lying in the back of the burning Warrior._

_Macara knew then what he had to do. He dashed out again just as a WMIK roared past, strafing a building._

_The captain reached the flaming Warrior and he grabbed the more serious of the two wounded, burning his hand on the metal of the vehicle. He put the Marine into the 'fireman's carry' he had been taught at basic; passenger's left and right hands on left side of your body, hold their right leg across your body with your left arm, leaving your rifle arm free._

_Except, Macara slung his rifle and grabbed the corporal by the collar._

_"This is going to hurt."_

_The captain then dragged the two men across the fifty yards of open ground. Halfway back, three commandos came from their position to cover him, and Macara dragged the men into safety._

_One marine, the one on his shoulders, died ten minutes later despite efforts of the medic and a Chinook evac._

_Unfortunately, another of the crewmen inside the vehicle had been killed by the blast. Macara never the less led three more men back to the burning wreck to retrieve the body._

_He then orchestrated the remaining commandos, with airsupport, in a counter-attack that broke the insurgent's hold on the town._

_In the following days, Macara was reprimanded for such reckless behaviour, before being awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross. The captain tried at first to refuse the award, but then accepted on behalf of his men, who were immensely proud of his achievement._

_He was ashamed that two men died on the operation._

_Three weeks later, Macara was assigned to the SGC to help in the new UK initiative providing troops and funds in the battle against the Ori._

Macara shook his head and looked at the Stargate. It hadn't taken a single bullet hole or chip from its surface during the firefight.

He was about to position his men around the gate again when his radio blared.

"_Macara, get back to the main positions! There are Darts coming_!" Sheppard's voice was steady, no panic to be heard.

"How many?" Macara asked, already marshaling his men.

"_Alot."_

Already he could hear the first engine note of the Wraith fighters.

"Move!" he bellowed.


	7. Chapter 7

Aboard the NightCrawler, Major Trang was sitting on the command chair as the ship was going to through Hyperspace.  
In Major Trang's head, he still remembered the images of the scientists who were overrun by rogue Genii. Images of the world moving slowly and all the black clouds of explosions everywhere and the scientists in the Jumpers firing their rifles as mortars finally landed on the Jumper and the image of the lone Airman who dragged him into the forest for cover and was shot up as he was recovering from the shell shock.  
Trang sighed and cleared his head, he'll always remember the ones who fell in battle right next to him. He opened his eyes ordered that once they exit he wanted 100% stealth mode, by dropping the shields down to a dangerous 20%.  
A hyperspace window opened and if one were to be on another ship a small black ship that had exited the window.  
"Wraith!" Trang breathed. This was something he hadn't expected.  
The Wraith Cruisers did not see the ship nor did they sense it. The Nightcrawler circled the moon and sped towards the two cruisers and unleashed missiles and beam weapons onto the two ships, the Cruisers barely had a chance to return fire as the Nightcrawler circled the moon again and this time came under the two ships and released its ordnance... they burst into flames and they only fired blindly at the Nightcrawler, but was unable to score a single hit on the smaller ship, the Nightcrawler moved out and was in orbit of the Alpha Site and was ready to beam up any wounded or provide missile support on the surface, Trang wanted to be beamed onto the surface but had to stick around because the threat of additional Wraith cruisers or a Hive could still be lurking in the darkness of space. After the last fight that Nightcrawler had been in, he had requested additional 302s were carried on aboard this time and was glad of the decision. They were beginning to join the fight down on the surface, as there were still dozens, if not hundreds, of Darts down there.

* * *

Debris and fires on the fallen ships were still visible in the night sky down on the surface, as Macara and his team looked up to the sky, Sheppard radioed in saying they need support, AA weapons and such, Macara moved through the brush and linked up with his other men and they proceeded past the brush to defend the main entrance.

The battle around the Alpha Site was fiercely contested, with hundreds of men and Wraith fighting, almost trench style in their fox holes. MG positions were firing and holding back the Drones and Wraiht commanders, but were eventually bombed by low flying Darts. Those Darts, in turn were shot down by Stingers and MG fire, even British star streak launchers, both sides were taking many casualties.

Macara and his men were firing at the Wraith at the main approach, cutting them down as they charged towards his defensive line.  
This battle was looking very grim and the computers weren't done being wiped. They were still unable to beam prisoners out.  
Suddenly bombs went off and a huge gaping hole 30 meters from Macara and Sheppard's position was made in the defensive line, the soldiers scattering under the bombardment. MGs and carbines fired hundreds of rounds, trying to cut down as many of the enemy as possible, but soon enough the Wraith tackled the first line of defenders as the other were moving to retreat.

Sheppard watched the fallen being feed upon and the men having their life sucked out of them...a gruesome sight...and the battle on the surface had only begun.

* * *

(Michelle24_7 who's character was invited along for the ride takes up the reigns for a guest appearance in the next bolded section)  
**  
Lorelle stepped through the doorway into Dr Weirs office, her nervousness written all over her face. Dr Weir smiled kindly and indicated for her to take a seat across the table from her. Teyla was sat to her right and Ronon was leaning against the wall on her left, arms folded, staring straight at her.  
"So Lorelle," started Dr Weir, "I understand you've requested to stay here with us again?"  
Lorelle nodded, her eyes darted between Teyla and Weirs, unable to tell what they were thinking. They'd decided that she would be better off serving her Village last time, they were convinced they would treat her differently now they knew the truth. But that didn't matter to the villagers, they knew she wasn't the wraith worshipper but it didn't stop them treating her as if she didn't exist! But since they'd learned of her expertise with medicines and herbs they came to her now, they wouldn't talk more than they had to, but it was better than before. She was lonely though.  
"Are things not going well within your village?" asked Dr Weir  
"No." replied Lorelle softly "They think I bring bad luck on them, the Wraith, you and now those men..." her voice trailed off and she looked at the floor. She would not let them see her cry!  
"Did they…hurt you?" asked Teyla. They both knew she meant the men but the question could be just as true about the villagers. It wouldn't have been the first time although Teyla hoped it had been dealt with before.  
"No," she replied "Not much, just roughed a few of us up, made me help one of their men that had gotten sick." Ronon growled at that.**

Dr Weir and Teyla exchanged glances, had she been forced to do more than just help them? Had she turned spy?

**"Lorelle, I'll be honest with you, the men you saw, the Genii, it's not the first time they have used fear to get people to do what they want." She stopped, considering how to word things. "If they said they would harm your village we can protect them, you know? We could re-locate them with one of our allies…"  
"No!" Lorelle cut in. "They will be gone by now anyway." She looked miserable, her head hanging.  
"The Men?" asked Teyla.  
"No, the villagers," replied Lorelle. "They will have already moved on, left me behind, so I have nowhere else to go, I have nowhere to belong!" It was finally too much for her as the tears broke, but still she struggled to hold them back.  
Teyla moved to comfort her as Ronon looked hard at Dr Weir. **

**"I told you," he said "she should stay." He shrugged his shoulders as Dr Weir remained silent, doubt and mis-trust of the Genii and what they were capable of clouded her mind  
"I'm leaving, going to the Alpha site" said Ronon as he left the room abruptly. There were no arguments and Weir continued contemplating this girls future.**

But finally she spoke. "Lorelle. I think you should stay with us, on a temporary basis until you decide what you would like to do. I think Dr Brown might make use of you, or maybe the infirmary?" she raised her eyebrow questioningly.  
Lorelle looked at Dr Weir in shock, unsure what to say. She was certain they were going to refuse her again. She realised her mouth was hanging open and tears were falling down her face, she must have looked a state! She quickly wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath before answering "Dr Weir, I would be honoured." She finally allowed herself to smile. It would be ok now.

The gate suddenly sounded and the gate technician announced 'unscheduled off-world activation' Weir left her office followed by Teyla and Lorelle.

**"Who is it?" she asked as she arrived at the gate control.  
The gate tech turned, a grave look on his face. **

**"It's the Alpha site" he said sighing "They're being attacked. It's the Wraith."**

* * *

The fighting was going badly. Three of Macara's Royal Marines were down, but they had taken out four times their own number of Wraith before their deaths.

The Rest of the RM's ensured that no Wraith fed on their friends.

Not all the troops were so lucky, but every moment or so, a Wraith would move in to feed on a USM or City security, and a silent round would take out the wraith. Marine Bennett with his L115A3 sniper rifle, proving just how good the L96's replacement was.

Nearly thirty humans were dead or injured now, but the Wraith were being made to pay for every yard.

"We can't keep this up!" Sheppard called to Macara. The major replied as if Sheppard hadn't made that comment.

"These new hollow points are great! The Wraith go down really easy, even to 5.56!" he grinned as he fired.

An explosion took out part of a modular shed, and some blade sharp plastic whistled by, a large piece taking Macara in the lower left back. He grunted, but kept firing.

"Macara, get back!" Sheppard shouted at him. The look on the Scotsman's face let Sheppard know what he thought of that idea. A marine fired his AG36 40mm and three drones flew through the air. One crawled back to his feet and began to attack again, his regenerative powers coming into play, when he was hit full in the body by an NLAW. There wasn't much left. An RM chuckled madly.

Behind the fighting soldiers, the two railguns defending Alpha base were almost glowing with heat as they fired continuously. The flow of darts had decreased as the Nightcrawler engaged the orbiting craft, but still many got through. .50s, railguns and even M60's were fired into the sky. Stingers and Javelins joined them, and darts exploded in coughs of flame and smoke.

One got in low enough to cull nearly ten men. A rocket took it out a moment later; instant death preferable to any feeding.

Another Dart came low and dropped some machine to the ground next to the Wraith positions. It beeped and flashed, but nothing else happened. Macara ignored it for the moment. He had seen a few others being dropped earlier in the engagement, too, but right now he didn't have time to wonder about it.

"_That's it sir! We've scrubbed the computers and all the hardware is either secure or set to detonate._" the radio went off in Macara's ear.

"Right, everyone get to the rendezvous and prepare to beam!" Sheppard called. The remaining troops, still some forty strong, gathered together.

"I really wish we had some of Trang's SF," Macara muttered, changing a magazine.

Nothing happened. No light, no noise of being dematerialised.

Just the Wraith.

"Shit" Sheppard said.

"_They're jamming our beaming tech somehow!_" Trang's voice came over the radio. "_We can't get you out!_"

"That's why repeated attempts at beaming the computer cores failed…" Sheppard muttered… "And we thought it was just Nightcrawler malfunctioning…."

Behind them the charges on the railguns went off, showering debris over a wide area.

"Those machines, the one the Darts dropped. We need to destroy them!" Macara shouted over the noise.

"The nearest is three hundred yards away. We need a Javelin or a LAW" Sheppard replied. The colonel did a quick check of the remaining weapons his troops had.

Typical. There were none left.

"The gate." Macara said.

"What?" Sheppard wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"The gate is one hundred and fifty yards into the trees there." Macara said quickly. "We can make it, and get out through the gate instead."

"There are fifty wraith in the way, major." Sheppard said "Any ideas?"

"Well, it's a simple choice. fifty Wraith and the gate, or one hundred, more darts, and the _possibility_ that we might get beamed out," Macara said, before lifting his voice to a volume RSM Quincannon was proud of.

"Grab the wounded. We're heading for the gate!"

Sheppard shook his head in disbelief.

"And fix bayonets!" Macara shouted again. Only the USM and UK troops could, and did, but the City Security had P90's, with no bayonet lugs. They looked on bewildered. "Stand by!" Macara said. Sheppard looked behind their position, suddenly understanding.

"You're crazy, major." the colonel said, pointing at Macara.

"What's worse than being in the way of a hungry Wraith, colonel?" Macara asked, a huge grin on his face.

"What?"

"Being in the path of an angry Gurkha,"

A huge call rose from the nineteen surviving Gurkhas. "Ayo Gorkhali!" That cry had been issued on battle fields for hundreds of years. It was loud and terrifying.

The Gurkhas charged suddenly, going straight for the Wraith.

"Go, go!" Macara bellowed. The rest followed the little men from Nepal, thier own rifles en Guarde. A Gurkha went down to a stun blast during the mad charge, and Quincannon hefted him onto his broad shoulders.

A moment later the Gurkhas hit the Wraith like a wave. The Wraith, strong, incredible fighters, had not been expecting this move. The Kukri's fell, bayonet-tipped L85's thrust forward and no amount of regeneration could fix a beheading or a throat cut back to the spine.

The Wraith backed away from the crazy humans, and that was their mistake, because the rest of Sheppard's force arrived and fired into the exposed backs and flanks of the Wraith, before the formation ploughed on, leaving the aliens in Disarray, some even fleeing from the Humans.

Only three Gurkhas had died in the attack, with four more injured. They cheered and sang Nepalese songs of war as they led the humans towards the gate.

Macara stopped short to lift a US marine hit by a wraith stun blast, lifting the corporal into a fireman's lift and heading after the human troops. He was proud of the USMC. He had never been fond of them, experience telling him they were gun-happy grunts, but the American Marines he fought alongside in the SGC program were well trained and disciplined, almost as good as his own men. They had fought hard, and well, today.

They came to the gate, which was active, a Wraith gun emplacement facing them.

"No..." Sheppard gritted his teeth, expecting at any moment for more Wraith reinforcements for appear, blocking the way.

* * *

Ronon led a small fire team through the gate, Weir and Lorrelle watching from the office. Even Rodney had gone with them.

"Good luck," Lorrelle whispered, hoping Ronon would be okay. beside her, Weir muttered the same thing.

* * *

Ronon came through the gate behind the Wraith, who had evidently assumed it was their own side activating it. His pistol barked and three Wraith fell to the dusty ground. Two of Ronon's fire team shot the wraith through the head, just to make sure.

Sheppard's team came crashing through the crude wraith barricade. The first men were already going through the gate. A USM MG gunner and Marine Bennett stopped and turned their weapons on some pursuers as the Gurkhas and the last RM jumped through the gates. Ronon's fireteam joined in, emptying their clips

"Let's get back to Atlantis." Sheppard said. Ronon nodded, Sheppard smiled with mild surprise at Rodney, and they went through the gate.

* * *

Everyone was cheering. They had lost twenty-two dead overall, and some of those were still on the planet. They had a great many more wounded. But they had won, and denied the Wraith the information that would lead them to Atlantis.

Above the planet _Nightcrawler_ was still fighting, but the _Daedalus_ was on her way, and all the living soldiers were Back on Atlantis.

Weir came up to Sheppard.

"Mission accomplished," he said politely.

"Well done colonel. And you, major," she said to Macara.

Macara placed the injured USM corporal on a stretcher, and saluted.

"My pleasure, ma'am."

Macara then promptly collapsed, blood leaking from his fatigues.

"Medic!"

* * *

As the Hive came closer to the _Nightcrawler_, the sensors on the _Nightcrawler_ went off as energy blobs started to smack against the weak shields the _Nightcrawler_ had, dropping the shields to a mere 6%...

The entire ship shook violently and tried to maneuver out of the line of fire but caught three more hits before it was out of the Hive's point blank range...

"Put all power to the shields and recall all pilots right away!" Trang ordered, "Fire everything we got at that Hive and ready a Mk VIII for the Alpha Site, as soon as we have confirmation that everyone is out of the base we'll fire the nuke down there!"

The _Nightcrawler_ sped away from the Hive's visual range but was still taking fire from the Hive's remaining Darts, the _Nightcrawler's_ point-defense weapons were doing its best to repel them but the Dart were merely running suicide runs into the ship's shields. even with all power connected to the shields, the shields still dropped as each Dart detonated onto the ship's shields.

"Sir, we're taking too much damage, if this keeps up then we won't make it back to the base to launch the nuke!" an engineer shouted as sparks from his station burst and severely burned him.

"Hull breaches in 2 decks sir! And fires in multiple halls!" another crewman yelled, "decompression in multiple decks as well...we're losing power for the shields, we're only at 47%!"

"Divert all remaining power to the engines were making one more run back to the base, we have to drop that nuke!" Trang ordered, "Ready the nuke and overcharge the beam cannon, hopefully it'll be enough just to disable the Hive long enough for us to get the hell out of here!"

So the _Nightcrawler_ blasted its engines towards the planet and the Hive was still firing blindly at the small black blob that was coming towards it.

An energy blast finally struck the ship and a large portion of the ship burst into flames, but right when it was above the Hive, an enormous bright blue beam came streaking from the _Nightcrawler_ and struck the Hive in the center and the Wraith ship suddenly stopped firing.

The Nightcrawler's fire was put out by the decompression of space but the beam cannon was destroyed, as the Nightcrawler was within range of the planet right above the doomed Alpha Site, it fired its remaining missiles and one nuke towards the base...

* * *

On the ground there was a sudden bright flash, followed by a huge mushroom cloud, several miles away; Darts started to fall out of the sky and ground troops were suddenly disappearing from the flash and shockwave.

The Nightcrawler turned around and opened a hyperspace window, even as energy blobs struck the already badly damaged ship again before it entered hyperspace.

* * *

Less than an hour later, a hyperspace window opened above Atlantis, the Nightcrawler emerged but was covered in flames.

"This is the BC-303B Nightcrawler to Atlantis, we have several wounded and are requesting to beam wounded into the infirmary right away and request to land on the Southern pier for repairs, we're barely holding on up here!" a crewman said in the radio.

"Acknowledged, Nightcrawler, please beam wounded into the infirmary then proceed to land onto the southern pier of the city for repairs." Chuck replied through the radio.

Flashes of light came into the already filled infirmary and the doctors and Lorrelle were already busy at work tending to the wounded.

The _Nightcrawler_ landed clumsily onto the pier and when the doors opened smoke came out and the first crewman staggered out with a bloodied arm and told the security guard to get medic teams over here ASAP, there's mangled and burned bodies and the bridge is covered with debris and they need help getting the debris out...then he too fainted from the loss of blood.

Medic teams and Doctor Weir rushed to the badly scarred ship and asked the crewmen of the ship where Major Trang was, they all shook their heads and said that they need help trying to save the Major from the burning bridge, firefighting teams are already in there, and it doesn't look so good...

Then an explosion erupted from the bridge and Doctor Weir gasped and everyone looked up towards the blazing bridge, then from the smoke came two men with a stretcher, and Major Trang laid there with his uniform covered in ash along his face covered in ash and his stomach was covered in blood. His eyes were closed...

"Is he going be okay!" Doctor Weir shouted to the two rescue men.

"We don't know yet, he's lost tons of blood and lots of air from the smoke, we have to get him into surgery right away!" the rescue man replied and they rushed him into the infirmary.

* * *

A whole Galaxy away, aboard a formerly Goa'uld Ha'tak, a group of men sat around an ornamental table. They discussed plans of War and conquest, and, above all, revenge.

"They have made fools of us!" one hissed.

"Netan doomed us all by attacking them," another voice snarled.

"We must strike with all the force that we have!" the first voice hissed again.

"We have been at war for long enough, now. We have done everything we can, but still they destroy our Kassa, defeat our ships in battle, and beat our troops. What options do we have?" a third, tired voice, spoke up.

The table erupted in suggestions and arguments.

"Attack!"

"Sue for peace!"

"Fool! They would never accept peace!"

"How can we defeat them?"

"Silence!" the voice bellowed from the door to the chamber. A lone figure, wearing the grey uniform of the Lucian Alliance, stood. He was dirty, some of his clothing was torn, and he stank of blood and death.

"What have you found?" the very first voice said, voice still a low hiss.

"Whilst you old fool have been arguing, my men and I discovered this," the man threw some scrolls onto the table. They were written in Goa'uld script, but most of them could read this anyway. There was also the finely crafted sketch of a creature, tall and perfect, beautiful, even. It had large, angelic wings.

"We find them. We find the Fallen, and unleash them on the Tau'ri!"


	8. Chapter 8

***Notes* Between the last chapter, and two months have passed. The Asuran's have become a threat, and Elizabeth Weir has been lost to the expidition. They await, now, on a new leader. Macara and Trang are still on Earth recovering. *notes***

The hyper space window opened above the new world that Atlantis now sat upon. Chuck saw it on the sensors first, and then there was panic in Atlantis. Who had found them?

The _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ were currently doing their taxi runs and patrols, and would be nowhere near the base in time. Everything was now on Sheppard's shoulders, as a new expedition leader had not yet been appointed in Elizabeth's wake, and he had a decision to make.

"I'm, going to the chair room. Get ready to cloak the city," Sheppard barked, running form the room. Ronon waited a moment before following.

Teyla looked at Chuck and nodded. Outside, the massive and elegant shape of the city disappeared bit by bit from sight until the whole thing seemed gone.

* * *

Sheppard rounded a corner, heading for a transporter, when Teyla's voice came across his earpiece.

"_John, you should hear this_." she said.

"What?"

"_A comm. From the ship."_

"Go on."

"_This is the DSC-305, the HMS Loran. Sorry if we frightened anyone, but we are ironing out a few bugs_," a slightly arrogant, and even worse, another Scottish, voice said.

"305?" Sheppard asked. "When did we make a new ship?" he replied back quickly.

"_You didn't_." the arrogant Scotsman replied.

Then it hit Sheppard like a brick. "HMS? You mean...?"

"_Yes_, _colonel_. _Her Majesty's Ship_."

Sheppard stopped and started back for the control room. "What can we do for you, colonel...?" he asked politely.

"_That would be Post-Captain. Captain Graham Stewart, Royal Navy. You can't really do anything for us, but the US Stargate program requested that we bring supplies with us on our first intergalactic test, and I said I would be glad to. I'll land the ship at one of your piers, with your permission?_" he seemed, despite the initial arrogance (common to all Brits, Sheppard assumed), a lot more agreeable than Major Macara.

"Permission granted. Welcome to Atlantis. I'll greet you in the control room if you would like to beam over?"

"_Be with you shortly,_"

Sheppard shook his head. Now the bloody Limey's had ships, too.

* * *

It was, Sheppard thought, a very nice ship. Built with IOA approval and funds, she was 10% longer than a 304, but slightly thinner, sleeker. Her 302 bays were situated neared the middle of the hull, instead of the rear. She had a similar number of missile tubes and railguns to a US ship, but only had two APBW. One of which chose which days it wanted to work.

"Had to beg borrow and steal those bits of kit from your lot," Stewart had said when he handed Sheppard a data pad of specs. He had started off with "Honoured to meet you, Lieutenant-colonel," Which was more than Macara ever had.

Sheppard couldn't be sure if he was genuinely just a nice guy, or if he was being diplomatic, however.

"So, what will you be doing when you are here?"

"Seconded to the USAF. We are going to provide you with a second ship for patrolling, so that there will always be two ships here with one other doing the taxi runs. Also takes the repetitive strain away from _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_." Stewart said. "Let's us practice our maneuvers as well, get the crew used to hyperspace for long distances etc," Stewart replied pleasantly.

Sheppard kept going to call him 'sir', but the Captain had refused the honorific.

A loud engine noise suddenly came overhead, followed by several more, and a wing of 302's flew over, doing flips and wheels. They were more compact than the norm, and had RAF markings.

"So, F302-E?" Sheppard asked.

"Our version. More or less the same as your own, but with our own missiles, and single seat. We have Normal 302's as well. The E stands for, believe it or not, England."

"Nothing fancy, then. Nice touch, named after your country," Sheppard said.

Stewart just lifted an eyebrow. "Not my country."

Sheppard grinned, remembering one of his many conversations with the sadly missed Carson Beckett on all things Scottish.

"So, how many of these things you leaving us with?"

"One small squadron. We still have the rest on board, and Fighter Command was not happy even having to leave 8 of these over here,"

"Well, we find on occasion we need Fighter support."

"True. However, you've only got these babies until I get back, colonel. In light of recent events, we will be rotating US and UK squadrons in and out of Atlantis," Stewart explained.

"The Russians?" Sheppard commented.

"SGC hasn't requested that privilege." Stewart chuckled.

Sheppard smiled back. "Well, I'll go and get your lot quartered. How many?"

"The eight pilots and twenty mechanics,"

"On top of the fifty Gurkhas already here?" Sheppard's smile faded.

"Sorry, old boy. See you later." Stewart finished abruptly, being beamed aboard his ship the very next second.

Sheppard grimaced. It was as if the God-damned British were setting up a base over here. He wasn't happy. At all.

And at least with Macara, he knew the major would do what was best for everyone in the city, not just his country. As pleasant as Stewart had been, he had the feeling the Captain was doing what UKGTF wanted, beyond simple protection of the base.

"Hurry back, Nathan," Sheppard muttered.

The fighters came to land on their designated pier, and Sheppard went off to draft his letter of complaint.

* * *

Walking down the hall of the SGC, a black uniformed officer with a sling on his left arm. Bearing the USAF symbol and SGC on his uniform, on his collar is a golden oak left on his collar; it was Major Trang, taking a visit down the familiar corridors where it all started...

He took a service elevator down a level and proceeded into the infirmary, limping severely. There he grabbed a cup of coffee and pushed a sheet covering to the side and closed it again, then took a seat next to a bed with a bandaged soldier; it was Major Macara. The major lay on the bed in full fatigues; he was here for a check-up, unlike Trang, who shouldn't have been out of bed.

"Top of the morning Mac." smiled Trang as he passed the warm coffee to Macara, "How's the back?"

Macara glared at Trang for awhile then chuckled as he took a sip of the coffee,

"Damn thing itches but I can't even touch it. This coffee is revolting as well...damn you...what are you doing out of bed?"

Trang gave a small chuckle, "I wanted to have a stroll…was a bit of a mistake, but I couldn't survive in here."

"You are an idiot, Vic," chuckled Macara

"Well back to business, Nate, we may be on leave, and command is "ordering" us to "take it easy"...whatever that may mean...but I hear there's some cadets rolling in this week, and apparently we're the highest ranking officers in two branches that the candidate selection process..."

"Sounds bloody boring as hell, mate." coughed Macara, "but I guess I'll take a look into that, just to see how far the boys back home have gone. It's international correct?"

"Indeed. I'll be representing the IOA in the selections, and you're going to be representing the SGAE (Atlantis Expedition) security teams and such. Candidates come from all over the world. A few from Germany, Sweden, Austria, Spain, Israel, Singapore, South Africa, just to name a few. Of course we have Australia and New Zealand, Canada, China, and of course Russia..." Trang read over his PDA, even as a nurse came along and scolded him for being up and around. She forced some medication into him, then got him to sit on the bed next to Macara.

"They should be arriving today at 1900 hours, and training beginnings at 0500 hours on Tuesday, those who participate, pass or fail, will bring home experience from the training and train fellow soldiers back home and such...etc etc..." he carried on whilst it was all happening.

"Like I said before, sounds bloody boring." Macara finished his coffee and set it on the table, "And it sounds like baby-sitting these young officers fresh from OTC, Vic-"

"Nate, these aren't only young officers, most of these candidates range from 22-35, and they each have records in the field; Afghanistan, Iraq, some of them even have classified operations..." Trang still scrolled down his PDA, "Some are low ranking officers, but there are a few Captains and such."

"How about we just take a look at this." Macara gestured to the PDA. "What's the first training session on tomorrow by the way?" Macara asked.

"Firearms and light Weaponry. Basically small arms testing,"

"Standard issued weapons?" Macara asked.

"Yup, meaning damn M9s, M4s, G36Ks, M249s, and P90s here and there, just basic cross-training for the different nationalities. But, there _is_ an outside marksman training with rifles...interested now Nate?"

"Alright you got me, but there is one thing for sure, I'm not wearing this damn bandage around my torso!" Macara snapped. "It's itchy, and I can't bend,"

"Hey, you tell that to the nurse, I still got this sling for another week or so, and my stitches could still break at any time. I'll keep the padding round my gut, thanks."

"By the way, I don't see your sidearm on you soldier...finally decided not to wear one on base anymore?" Macara said, noticing Trang's thigh having no holster.

"I'm always armed...Condition 1 all the time, especially near a gate..." Trang laughed, only half in jest.

Vic slowly lay back on the bed "Damn meds are kicking in again...see you in the morning Nate."

"You too, mate..." Macara got up and took the PDA from the table next to the bed, on the screen had a list of names.

Reading this, Macara walked back to his temporary office in the UK section of the base.

Two days later, Trang entered his own office, there he had old pictures of him and his team on front of the gate, a picture of him shaking hands with a General Landry and the SGC symbol on the background, a deactivated Staff Weapon hung on his wall, and a picture of him standing next to Sheppard with an F15 on the foreground, and a picture of him and Macara with a Chinook helicopter behind them...the old times...

Trang switched his computer on and scrolled down his messages and there was an important flagged message from the IOA...repair status on the _Nightcrawler_...

Trang let out a small sigh and examined the report on the _Nightcrawler_'s repair progress. The _Nightcrawler_ had to be towed out of the Pegasus Galaxy a few days after it landed on Atlantis and it took two weeks for the ship to reach the Milky Way, and the nearest repair post at the Gamma Site.

Trang read over the notes.

Hull plating has to be replaced majority on the bridge, but the new hull plating is new and experimental...trinium-naquahdah-titanium-neutronium alloy.

Engines are fine, and are the first to be repaired or replaced.

The three naquahdah generators are replaced with new ones.

Ordnance is being refitted and additional armor plating on the hull, Asgard Beam Cannon has to be replaced with a new one, offers for another cannon to be installed have been denied (by Major Trang) due to the high energy signature.

The new trinium-naquahdah-titanium-neutronium alloy hull (TNTN) has additional stealth materials on them, yet shields still have to remain at a low 20% for full effectiveness.

Overall the with repairs underway the _Nightcrawler_ will be space-worthy in 2 weeks time...that's a week before him and Macara are allowed to leave Earth for Atlantis again.

The Major leaned back in his chair and exited the repair page, browsed through a few pages of custom built ACR parts, M1911 .45 variants and a few Sig variants, and then turned off his computer and closed his eyes..."Tomorrow is going to be fun" Major Trang thought in the back of his head.

* * *

Macara sighed heavily, his back throbbing. He really didn't want to be some jumped up drill-sergeant right now. Wet nursing rookies? No thanks.

He really wanted to be back in Atlantis. Macara had been in his sick bed for just under a month now. Lorrelle had done a great job healing his physical wounds back in Pegasus, but HQ had ordered him home for R&R. The trauma and blood loss from his back wound, coupled with complete exhaustion, had done him in.

And whilst he was gone, things went to Hell in a handbasket. The Asurans made an attack on the city, Weir was MIA, presumed KIA, and there was now a new leader of the expedition. A military leader.

USAF, no less.

That was not looked on kindly by the UKGTF. Macara couldn't care who was in charge, as long as they were capable. Just don't tell the Yanks he was thinking that...

But Macara was most desperate to get back to Atlantis because the tour of the Gurkhas there was almost over, and the RMC would be sending out men again. And there was now the presence of the HMS _Lorcan_. The SGC weren't too happy with THAT turn of events, so maybe Colonel Carter in charge of Atlantis wasn't soo bad.

Macara walked over to the new recruits. Trang was already dealing with his next batch of spec ops, taken from several IOA member countries. Macara smiled to see a few green berets with globe and laurel badges. SBS, no less.

His own trainees were a mix between potential Security Sorces, as commanded by Sheppard regularly, and the next batch of UKGTF troops to head over. There were Ukrainian, Indian, Canadian, American and Australians, even some French and Germans, for the Security force.

The UK troops were Para support machine gunners.

Macara laughed aloud. He couldn't do anything else. These Paras would be shipping out with his RMs, and be subordinate to them. The British Army wouldn't be happy about that!

"Ten-hutt!" a US sergeant major bellowed, stilling the field as the major approached. Macara shook his head; he had a lot of work to do.

* * *

Captain Graham Stewart stood on the thrumming command deck of the _Lorcan_. The ship had done well in its shakedown cruise so far. Trips to Dakara to open talks on behalf of the UK as part of the SGC and offer assistance in rebuilding, visited the Tokra homeworld and then headed for Pegasus.

All without incident.

And Stewart was bored.

He was nearing his fifties, and wanted some action again. The Navy didn't see as much combat service as the Army or RMs, apart from launching fighters form Carriers etc.

his crew felt the same, but in MW there were no real enemies to fight. The closest they had come was scaring off some Lucian Alkesh.

"Captain, nearing the system now." the lieutenant(pro; Luff-tenant) at the comms and scanner panel stated.

"Very good. Lieutenant-commander Grant, take us back into normal space please," Stewart spoke to the Helm and tactical controller.

"Aye, aye, sir."

The view out the port was of a large, ruddy gas giant. The _Lorcan_ was to scan the system for Wraith or Asuran activity and report back to Atlantis.

"So far nothing, sir," the young Lieutenant replied. Young. That was funny, because the lieutenant was a senior lieutenant and in her thirties. They were all young to him.

"Keep trying. Take us around the shadow of that Gas giant, extend scans to max,"

"Aye, aye."

The planet drew closer, then ventral on their port side. they came around, when the scans started beeping away madly.

Stewart simply looked at his L-C and raised an eyebrow. Grant looked at his own readout; technically the Lieutenants job, Stewart trusted Grant's judgment implicitly.

"We have several ships, sir. I make it four, no...five. All Aurora class." Grant said, a slow grin on his face. "Likelihood is they are Asuran."

Stewart had read the files, and well knew that the Asurans were now attacking the Wraith. So, whatever the Asurans had planned, they would be attacking their mutual enemy. Good.

"Don't go too close, Grant. Pull us away, but we'll monitor them. See what happens."

"Aye, sir...Sir, wait a minute, I think they may have spotted us. Three ships have just jumped away, but two are heading our way." Grant looked over. "They are powering drone launchers."

"Okay. Grant, raise shields and launch fighters. Prepare all batteries for immediate commencement of fire. And let's see if those APBW we blagged are actually any good." Stewart then hit his speaker button. "This is the captain. All hands, beat to quarters. I say again, all hands, beat to quarters."

Stewart smiled tightly. They wanted a fight, and now they had one.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me!" Macara sighed. "You are the best infantry from five different countries, and you are scared of that thing?" Macara pointed at the Stargate.

The new security troopers for Atlantis all stared at the Gate. Macara had scheduled a short trip to a nearby planet in order to get them used to gate travel before they went to Pegasus. And as one they had baulked at the threshold of stepping in.

"Sergeant-major," Macara murmured to Quincannon.

"Alright, boys, in ya go!" he said happily, pushing them in one at a time. The nine men at the rear of the group backed away, and turned to face none other than Teal'c, with one of those grins on his face, his hands crossed behind his back. He was robed, ready to head home.

"Gentlemen," he gestured at the gate. None moved. Teal'c raised a zat from behind him. "I need to use of this gate to return home to help with the political situation, and you are in my way. You will move."

That made the soldiers run. Not one liked the glare in Teal'c eye.

Quincannon was almost bowled over in the mad dash for the gate.

"Let's go," Macara muttered to the Para's who waited for the last security forces to go through the gate.

As one they glared at him, but followed none the less. The Paras were nothing if not completely disciplined.

* * *

"Shields holding," Lieutenant Grant called.

"Return fire already!" Stewart barked.

"Sir, beam turret one is down!" Grant replied.

"Open fire with all railguns. Aim at those drones,"

"Will that work, sir?" the nervous helmsman asked.

"I don't know, but it's worth a try. Load missile tubes and prepare to fire the 2nd Asgard turret.

"Aye, sir." Grant said, a second before the ship rocked under shield impacts.

The whole ship vibrated that time, throwing ratings to the floor.

"Sir, hull breach on level 7!"

"Lock it off and beam the crew out!"

The F-302Es were engaging the second Aurora, coming in fast on ventral vectors, unleashing missiles and railguns on the Asuran ship, causing limited damage but distracting it none the less.

The second ship began to fire drones, which everyone knew would tear the F-302Es to pieces. The wing-commander of the RAF fighters came in low on the hull and fired his last two missiles, so close the shields only absorbed part of the impact.

He had aimed right at the dorsal-fore drone bank. The missiles detonated some of the drones, the explosion began a chain amongst newly fired weapons, and tore a chunk from the Aurora's hull. Lights flickering and venting atmo, the second ship drifted away from the fighting. The Wing commander didn't survive to see his fighters saved, as his own fighter was caught in the explosion.

"Fire!" Stewart shouted, and Grant hit the trigger button.

One Asgard turret flared, then puffed out a cloud of super heated gas.

The second burst into life, shearing into the original Aurora. The Asuran's shields flared briefly before the beam cut into the ship.

The _Lorcan_ shuddered, and Grant turned a worried look to Stewart.

"Sir, the beam is 30% more powerful than it should be..."

"And?" Stewart thought a stronger gun was a good thing.

"Well, sir, she'll either blow a transductor, or she'll blow the ship." Grant said. "Unless we stop firing."

"Do it!" Stewart said, a slight panic in his voice.

The Asgard beam stopped, but Grant hadn't saved the transductor coil. It blew, and the plasma turrets lost all power.

The Asuran ship was stricken, but not out of the fight. It launched more drones and moved in closer to the _Lorcan_.

"Damn it." Stewart muttered. "Prepare the beaming room with a nuke on short fuse, lieutenant-commander." the captain said without pause.

"Sir?" Grant looked puzzled.

"Their shields are down! Do it!"

Realisation came over his face, and the lieutenant-commander smiled.

"Aye, sir"

"And call back the fighters. I don't want them caught in the blast wave."

The human ships moved away from the encroaching Asuran. Little more than a second later, light flared from the replicator's innards, then the nuke ripped it asunder.

The blast wave was barely felt aboard the _Lorcan_.

"Helm, set course for Atlantis. I want these damn turrets sorted. And send a message ahead; the replicators are up to something"


	9. Chapter 9

In Milky Way

"SGC, this is Macara. We have engaged a group of Lucian alliance. They were at the suspected area, but in much greater numbers, and as soon as the gate became active they must have headed towards it." Macara called through the subspace array.

"Well, get back to the gate major!" Landry replied, almost irritated by the event.

"Would if we could sir, but they are between us and the gate." Macara's voice was calm.

"Do you require assistance?"

The notion seemed to offend Macara. "No, sir. I was simply informing you we may be late for dinner, and to make sure and keep some for us."

The last sound Macara heard before Landry ended the comm was the general's laughter in the gate control room.

"Well, boys, that's grub sorted. Let's finish this lot and get home."

The Para's machine guns chattered, and the Lucian troops were pushed back...

*Queue Gate sequence*

"Well, major?" Landry asked patiently.

"Twenty dead, maybe double that wounded. Full retreat."

"Not them. Your lot." Landry tried not to laugh.

"Oh, us. Four injured, none serious. I think we won." Macara replied.

"Very good, major. Get the men debriefed. They've saved you lot some steak pie. Very British"

"Thank you, sir, though I must say I prefer a nice curry," Macara smiled. He saluted sharply and formally, and when it was returned, he barked at the men to clean up and report to the mess.

He finished off with what they all needed to hear, but couldn't expect very often.

"You boys did well today. Easy day tomorrow. Range practise and gate assault."

The men gave a weak cheer and moved away.

So far, Macara thought, they were doing pretty well. But he couldn't wait to get back to Pegasus.

**Major Macara was about to leave as Landry's phone rang, he speaks briefly and hangs up. "Ah Major, you might want to hold off that pie for a bit, we just got word from Admiral MacGregor, he says to tell you, it's finished, they'd like you and some of my teams to check it out, you leave for Adelaide in an hour."**_**Apollo**_**. Grateful for the ride, the moment they beam down, a smiling Sam Carter and a Aussie Admiral greet them.  
Sam makes a quick introduction, "Major Macara, this is Admiral William MacGregor of the RAN, he will be under orders of the IOA and the SGC, overall fleet commander."  
The two men shook hands after the traditional salutes.  
"Well, Major, Sam, let's go and have a look at our new bird shall we!"  
As Macara and his team follow Sam and the Admiral, they make a left hand turn around a hangar that has obscured their vision, there sitting on the open grassy field, adjacent to the P3 Orion flight line, Macara beheld a most beautiful site. The fleets first escort cruiser. He was somewhat surprised to see the name on the vessels side, 'CG 340 Janet Fraiser'.  
"Jesus Christ" Was all he could manage to say.  
Somewhat of a size to the 303, perhaps a little smaller, it was nonetheless, nothing more than a weapons platform. It simply bristled with armaments, two hangar bays, and no nonsense shape, that said "**_**You can't touch me!"**_**  
"Well Major, what do you think?" The admiral asks.  
Macara is not usually overwhelmed, but there was a definite tear in his eye, he had read all the SGC files he was allowed, he well knew who Janet Fraiser was, "Very fitting" He thought, the Heroine class of ships, will boost our ability to fight back, now the BC's can be fully protected.  
"Hold on a second son" The Admiral grabbed his arm. "Sam, want to show him the rest?"  
"Of course sir, Major if you would follow me."**

"Finished, now, Christ, have they already done the work up trials, General?"  
"It appears so, Colonel Carter is already there, she's taken temporary leave of Atlantis to get the ship into service."  
Macara and a small international team arrive at Edinburgh Air base just north of Adelaide, via the

Colonel Carter led Macara and his team into the hangar they were standing near. Inside, he did not have to guess what it was, as he himself had a hand in its design. He just stood there and stared at the 4 AC401's lined up before him, "Bloody Christmas already" And he laughed heartily, the first time he remembered doing so for a long time.

Standing next to the nearest 401, a diminutive USAF Captain waved them over, Sam once again made an introduction.  
"Major Macara, I'd like you to meet Captain Jennifer Hailey, she will be your 401 Squadron commander. Jen, this is Major Macara, your new boss, when he calls for support, otherwise you'll still be under Stewart. Oh, and the Admiral of course."  
Sam smiled at her protégé', somewhat very pleased on how the sassy young woman turned out, and cast a wary eye at MacGregor. (Little did the others know, William MacGregor was Sam's uncle by marriage, Jacob Carter's younger sister being MacGregor's wife, herself a Naval reserve Captain/Surgeon, posted also to the SGC)

"Sir's, we have a comm," a young Australian sailor came running over with a data-pad.  
MacGregor took it and quickly scanned it.  
"Ah, Major, looks like you will be heading back to the SGC quicker than I thought. the next Marine detachment for Atlantis has arrived and are awaiting gate travel. We can have you back in about ten minutes," the admiral said.  
"Thank you, sir," Macara said. He and Carter saluted sharply, Macara putting a lot more effort and pride into the action than he had in recent months.  
"_Apollo_, bring us aboard," Carter radioed. Ellis muttered and acknowledgment, and something about being a taxi, and Carter vanished.  
Macara still stood in the hangar.  
"Sir?" Macara asked, genuinely confused.  
"Sorry, major. We jammed your beam up for a moment. I'd like to say a few things; firstly, I know the tensions running between SGC and GTF. You want your autonomy in reward the blood spilled fighting the Ori. They want control of all space craft. The Chinese are scarily isolated, and now the IOA has its own stealth ship. My appointment was an IOA compromise; Australia is just getting involved in the Stargate program and we don't have the same vested interests as many of the other nations involved. The States don't mind us having space craft, as we have designed some bloody good ones for their use. But you want your very own. The 305 sent them into a spin. The new AAS(Amphibious Assault Ship) has just about driven them mad, and only because you designed them for everyone's use and built one for the yanks, has stopped a complete meltdown. My being in command stops any internal bickering. Hopefully. But I would like to think I have your full support."  
Macara looked the admiral up and down. There was no doubting he had a commanding presence, and that authority came easily to him. It also seemed he was totally genuine. The major could sense no deception.  
"You will, sir. I'm sure the admiralty will get over Australian superiority far quicker than American."  
MacGregor smiled. "Just remember, major, the US was defending Earth for eight years before we turned up."  
"They wouldn't have had to stand alone, sir." Macara finished.  
_"What is keeping Macara? We can't get a lock!"_ Ellis' voice bleated through Macara's vox.  
"Beam now, colonel," MacGregor said sharply. The Scottish Major saluted again, and just as the aura of beam transport appeared, MacGregor said  
"Watch yourself major. They don't like the idea of the 305"

* * *

"Gate activation!" Chuck shouted.  
"Stand down! It's the scheduled dial in from Midway," Sheppard told the security teams.  
As the puddle formed, Sheppard shook hands with Captain Rai of the Gurkha contingent, and the British major of the same regiment who had taken command in Macara's absence.  
"Thanks for the help, captain,"  
The small man gave one of his ready grins, and then the British soldiers formed ranks to welcome their replacements.  
Twenty security men appeared through the gate first, reporting directly to major Sheppard. Sam was with them. She whispered a few words in his ear, then took a place at his side. The security teams moved to take their new billets; the gateroom was becoming crowded.  
The next figures stepped through; unassuming men in DPMs, dark green berets worn proudly. Behind them a couple of sections of men with Red berets.  
The gate shut down, and Chuck began the dialing sequence back the other way.  
"Here we go," Muttered Sheppard, "All pomp and ceremony."  
Macara's men formed their own ranks, the gate room truly mobbed now. The wormhole opened again, and the major walked over to his Army counterpart.  
"Major Hamilton-Smith, you stand relieved." he snapped a crisp salute. The army officer returned the salute. "Thank you major. The post is yours,"  
The Marines, at a command from Quincannon, slid apart and faced inward. Rai and his Gurkha's marched proudly and smartly through the gate, heading home. Behind them, the rotated security teams followed, looking less organised but no less pride in their bearing.  
After a few minutes, they were gone and the gate shut down.  
"Permission to come aboard, ma'am?" Macara saluted Sam.  
"No need for that major. As you were."  
Macara's shoulders slumped visibly as he relaxed.  
"Welcome back!" Sheppard said genuinely. "I never thought I would be pleased to see you."  
Macara smiled back warily. "You too, colonel. Mind if we get settled in before I'm briefed?"  
"Go ahead." Sam said. Macara nodded to Quincannon.  
"NCO's! Get your men to their billets! Have all the new stores taken to our armoury and get settled in! Dismissed!" the roar was heard three levels down.  
Macara walked off at the head of his men, passing Ronon and Teyla who had been watching the martial display. The Satedan nodded to Macara, who reciprocated.  
As Macara headed to the nearest transporter, he sighed contentedly. He was back

* * *

**Macara and his men had been at their leisure for the day, catching up on friends met, and generally getting their kit in order. At 1630 hrs a call came to his billet from Chuck, in the control room.  
"Ah major, you might want to come up here."  
"What is it, I was about to hit the rack."  
"Colonel Carter said we have some visitors, your attendance is required."  
"Oh, alright then, I'll be there in a moment." **_**Damnit**_**, he swore under his breath.**_**"I just got my birthday and Christmas all at once."**_

When he arrived, Sam and Sheppard, along with Teyla and Ronon, were already up on the control platform, on the large vid screen Chuck indicated a vessel heading for Atlantis.  
Macara approached them. "So how does this concern, is it a Wraith ship?"  
Sam smiled." No major, it dropped out of hyper space not two minutes ago, we received a hail, it's the Fraiser; she left right after we did."  
"Bloody fast then isn't she." Macara muttered.  
"Yes, the first of four to be assigned to escort duties here in Atlantis." Sam replied.  
"Ah, colonels, major, we're receiving another hail, 4 smaller craft have just left the Fraiser and are heading for us at speed." Chuck called over to the assembled officers.  
"Put it on speaker Chuck." Sheppard said.  
There was a brief crackle, then a young, female voice came over the comm.  
"Atlantis, this is Squadron Leader, Captain Jennifer Hailey, permission to land, over."  
Sam and Macara exchanged a knowing glance at one another, Sheppard looked puzzled.  
"They look too big for puddle jumpers. What are they?" Sheppard asked in genuine confusion.  
"You'll see John." Sam almost winked at him. Macara looked like a little boy at Christmas, opening up his gifts. That was not something that anyone was used to seeing from the relatively cold Major.  
"Here they come, we'll see them in a moment" Chuck told them.

As a group, they filed out to the North East balcony, the pier on that side in full view. Looking up they saw the four fat shapes coming at speed, in formation, the dark gray AC401's did a sub sonic fly past, before wheeling around and vertically landing on the pier. Moments later the pilots and crews could be seen disembarking, with more troops exiting the rear cargo doors of the craft.  
"They're ours?" Sheppard asked?  
"Of course, and they'll do and carry a lot more than our jumpers as well." Macara replied.

Minutes later, a young USAF Captain, with a man in his early 30's, dressed in Auscam, a Warrant officer, exit from the transporter.  
Jennifer Hailey and the WO salute the senior staff, they all welcome the new comers, Hailey introduces the WO. "Colonels, Major, this is Warrant Officer Warwick Spencer, formally of the Australian SASR, now assigned to Major Macara."  
Macara and Spencer shook hands, and Hailey filled the rest in on the details of the Fraiser's attachment. Spencer informed them they now have an extra 80 billets to find, as he tells them of the Australian/ New Zealand deployment.  
"Oh, ah…Colonel Carter, ma'am, we brought along the other team you requested as well." Spencer says.  
"Other team?" Sheppard asked.  
"Yes, deep strike specialists, an Australian Navy combat dive team. They are to assist in missions where we need intel behind the lines so to speak."  
Macara smiles to himself.

* * *

some time later

Macara stood on his balcony looking out at the sea. He loved it here on Atlantis. The planet may be different, but the view seemed the same. It had a few more moons, though, but apart from that...  
Recently though, his newly adopted home was becoming crowded. There was the Security forces, the US marines, the Australian units who kept coming and going aboard the Fraiser, and of course the British garrison. Tensions were running high, and for once, it wasn't even his fault.  
At first, the abundance of Commonwealth troops had been a great laugh. Brits and Aussies joked and drank off duty, even many Americans joining in. They didn't care about the politics back home.  
But, eventually, things went wrong. The Brits and The Yanks had some fallings out; the British were "arrogant, snobby limeys" and the Yanks were "incompetent, gung ho and trigger happy". Sheppard had had to break up one particularly nasty fight using the security forces and wraith stunners. Three Royal Marines were disciplined, fined and restricted to quarters for a week. Two US servicemen were let off with a warning, the other three recovering in the infirmary.  
"God damn," Macara breathed the curse to a religion he didn't even believe in.  
Macara had, much to Sheppard's grudging delight, request the withdrawal of the UK fighter groups from Atlantis, leaving fewer personnel to fight it out.  
The Australian forces had, reluctantly, decided to remain off base for the time being, until things calmed down. They would travel in the Fraiser, going about missions, helping Atlantis and stopping by for joint exercises. But the mix of so many fighting men and women trapped in a location where authority and autonomy weren't mixing well was definitely having a bad effect.  
Macara sighed once more, and then returned to his room to grab his gear before heading to the armoury. He wondered what Trang would say about all this when he got back.

Energy blobs flew through the gate, closely followed by the Australian fire team.  
"Jesus," the captained groaned. "That was close. Place was crawling with the buggers!"  
His men hunched over, catching breath.  
More and more recently, they were making contact with the Wraith. It seemed that since the defeat of the replicators, the Wraith had emerged from the proverbial woodwork.  
"How many, captain?" Carter asked.  
"Must have been at least fifty. One of the lads thought he could see a base or something, through the trees."  
"Looks like P5X-556 is a no go, for the moment." Sheppard replied, looking at Rodney whose face fell at the thought of being unable to investigate the Ancient ruins there. Carter nodded.  
"For the moment. Ah, major." she quickly changed subject as Macara turned up with his section. "I take it you heard?"  
Macara nodded, but said nothing more on the subject. He walked slowly over to the officers, just out of earshot of the troops. "Permission to head out, colonel?"  
"Since when did you ask permission to use the gate?" Sheppard said, only half joking.  
Macara gave him a withering look. "Since our troops started beating lumps out of each other. I want to get this in hand, and if that means I have to show respect to your authority, in order to get my men to, then I will."  
Sheppard nodded, pleasantly surprised.  
"You could just order them to work together," McKay said.  
"No, he can't Rodney. You can't order men to respect each other. Has to be earned. Very well, major. Permission to gate out granted" Carter said.  
Chuck began the dialing sequence.  
"Okay, move to the gate! Stand ready." Macara called out. The 'kwawoosh' flared for a moment, and then Macara started towards the gate, closely followed by his men.  
The small gathering of officers and McKay dispersed as the gate closed.

* * *

Graham Stewart sat in the British officers mess with a few of his senior officers. They were currently restocking the ship's freshwater supplies and letting the crew grab some shore time.  
"What do you think of these Aussie ships, then, sir?" his commander, Hesk, asked.  
"They are solid little ships. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of them. I can't say I'm happy with the yanks getting their hands on another type of space craft, especially something as powerful as these little destroyers." Stewart muttered.  
"At least the Australians are manning the first couple produced, sir. better than having the Americans running round the galaxy with a full carrier group," lieutenant-commander Grant spoke up. Stewart snorted.  
"They might as well be crewed by yanks. The Australians will do whatever the Americans want them to, as per usual, and we'll be stuck being the little kid who follows the bullies around, hoping to get a chance to beat something up." Stewart finished his drink. "I have reports to do, so I will leave you know, gentlemen. however, I would ask that we don't let the Ratings hear our  
opinions. There has been too much fighting already. Believe what you want to, just don't let them hear you."  
The other stood as Stewart left, before returning to their drinks. The captain walked off, wondering how long it would be before he was called away to haul some Ratings away from some fight or other. How had it all gone wrong?

**Macara and his men were about to enter the event horizon when the gate was suddenly shut down. He swung about and looked up to see Colonel Carter standing at the railing of the control platform.  
"Stand down Major" She said simply.  
Sheppard also looked somewhat surprised and cast a suspicious glance toward Sam.  
"A problem Colonel, ma'am?" Macara asked?  
"We have just been summoned. Major your presence is required elsewhere, you as well John, and get Majors Trang and Lorne as well, thank you."  
Both men noticed the stern look on Carter's face.  
"Oh ah, Colonel?" Macara called back.  
"Yes?"  
"What about the recon?"  
"Warrant Officer Spencer can handle it Major, now please do as I ask and get Trang and Lorne up here now!"  
Macara and Sheppard just stood there looking at each other, though he had not known Sam Carter a long time, Macara usually found her quite calm, something was bothering her.**_**Lorcan**_** her first AC401's."  
"Ah I see." Sam said with a slight question in her tone. **_**" I wonder what Will is up to" **_**She thought to herself**

Assembled in front of the gate, were Colonels Carter and Sheppard, Majors Lorne, Macara and Trang, and two of Atlantis' International Security Force commanders, Lt. Col. Gustav Haab from Austria and Major Susanna Valenski from Poland. All of them except Sam, were as puzzled as the next, Valenski leaned close to Macara (she had been close to him on a couple of overnight missions).  
"Any idea what zis is about darlink?" Macara just shrugged, and tried to push the image of the over muscled blonde woman into another compartment of his mind.  
"Stand by, ok then Chuck, tell them we're ready" Sam called to her gate technician. The familiar hum of the Asgard transport beam was heard for a moment and all the officers assembled disappeared from the gate area.  
Milliseconds later they were standing on the bridge of an unfamiliar ship, clearly Australian crews looked at them briefly and carried on with their duties. Though not all of them were Australian, the captain was an American, she approached them and embraced Sam Carter obviously a friend. Sam began the introductions. "This is Captain Sarah Connolly USN, commander of the UNS Janet Fraiser (editors note, UNS= United Nations Ship),the first of our cruiser escorts. Sam then introduced the names of the other officers and asked Connolly. "So Sarah are we all here?"  
"I believe the Admiral and Captain Stewart will be here in a moment Sam, the Admiral wanted to collect the Captain personally, and deliver the


	10. Chapter 10

**Sarah showed her guests to the wardroom, it was furnished in polished Australian Jarra, tables, chairs and paneling on the bulkhead, at one end of the room stood an array of flags in stands, representing all the nations now involved in the Stargate program. At the immediate opposite end, was a large oil painting of an Australian DDG HMAS Perth, on the gunline, Veitnam, 1971. A long table was in the middle and the officers found their own seats. And as on all Australian warships, alcohol, in the form of a tiny glass of port was served to all, the stewards also bringing around platters of cheese, olives and crackers.  
The ships com system crackled into life. "Attention on deck, flag officer aboard!"  
**_**"That his cue"**_** Sam mused  
Moments later, Admiral William MacGregor came through the door, closely followed by Captain Stewart. The admiral wasted no time, as all stood when he entered, he waved his hand casually for them to sit.  
"Right then, we're all here." He said taking in the faces of each and every one of them. "Straight to business. Now my sources tell me there is a tad too much infighting, bickering and sniping going on between the various forces on Atlantis." He gazed at all of them, even his niece, and gave them a look that said,**_** "I dare you to contradict me!"**_**  
"I'm here as fleet commander as some of you may already know, and my jurisdiction is up here." He lifted his hand for effect.  
"But in that capacity, I'm also the ranking officer in theatre at the present until further notice, is that understood?"  
All of them nodded or simply said "Yes sir"  
"Now we have two problems, the first of which only you people here can resolve...discipline, there is no other word for it, do you understand me?"  
"Yes sir, of course sir," and so on it went for about five minutes, each one giving their own interpretation of where things had broken down.  
The Admiral shifted in his chair, and then slammed his hand hard down on the table. "It frakkin stops here!" He roared at them. All of them, even Sam Carter was taken by surprise. "Each one of you is held accountable by me and the IOA, for maintaining discipline, now I know you've had your hands full of late, but for God's sake, you're all professionals, the responsibility is yours, no one else's, do I make myself clear?" MacGregor said fiercely, but much more calmly.  
As each one was about to reply, the ships claxon alarm sounded and then the pipe was heard.  
"Action stations, action stations, this is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill. Captain to the bridge, pilots report to the hangar decks immediately."**

The wardroom erupted, as chairs were pushed back. She Admiral, Sam and Sarah Connolly were first out the door. The wardroom was a quick elevator trip to the bridge, as they arrived, Sarah addressed her XO.  
"What have we got Mr. Johansen?"  
"Multiple contacts captain, I would say seven Wraith cruisers and a mothership, heading for this vector, eta, fourteen minutes!"

The claxons blazed as the officers flooded the bridge.  
"I want all officers of ground units back on Atlantis. Prepare to defend the city. Portion out the quadrants between the respective forces."  
Salutes happened, and the security officers disappeared.  
"Sam, Sheppard and Lorne, we are short of pilots. Is there any chance you could pilot some of my 302's?" the question was more of a statement.  
With little more than a nod, the US officers fled the bridge, heading for the carrier bays. MacGregor looked at the remaining officers, figuring out in an instant what needed to be done.  
"Captain Stewart, prepare to beam back to the _Lorcan_," MacGregor said.  
"Aye, sir," the Scotsman was suddenly chirpy, the thought of a fight foremost in his thoughts. A moment later, with the familiar sound and faint smell of ozone, Stewart was gone.  
"Commander Connolly, launch all fighters. And launch as many 401's as you have aboard, please. Nows the time to test them out."  
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant-commander, alert the carrier section and have all the birds fired up." Connolly relayed quickly.  
The bridge was a den of motion, ratings and officers dashing to action stations.  
"Major Trang, you will kindly beam down to Atlantis and then gate to Px5-876 and meet up with your _Nightcrawler_. Macara, head to _Lorcan_ and be ready to repel boarders. You know what the Wraith want, and that isn't a bunch of dead humans."  
"Of course, sir. Would you like some of my Marines to assist in defence. I noticed your compliment was rather depleted." Macara asked in return.  
"Whatever you can spare major. Commander, beam him to _Lorcan_"

* * *

Macara appeared on the _Lorcan_.  
"Nate, Hailey needs a gunner. Go to it, please." Stewart said even as Macara materialised.  
"Sir? What about ship defence?" Macara was shocked.  
"My Captain of Marines will handle it. I want one of ours aboard the 410's. I'll not have a bunch of foreigners handling my fighter-screen alone." he said sharply. "No matter how competent they may be."  
"Of course, sir." and again, Macara found himself running through the narrow confines of a ship.

The two vessels, _Fraiser_ and _Lorcan_, moved away from the planet to keep Atlantis as far from the fighting as possible.  
A cloud of fighters and tornadoes flitted about the larger ships. Fraiser was half the length of Lorcan, yet bristled with as much firepower. The sleek lines of _Lorcan_ matched against the stout power of _Fraiser_.

* * *

"Yes, colonel, I understand," Teyla said through the comms. "We have major Valenski in the drone chair, and Major Trang has just gone through the gate. Colonel Haab is now organising the defenders."  
"_Very good, Teyla. Have the city cloaked, but ready to jump to shield at any moment._" Carter's voice came back.  
"Of course, colonel." Teyla replied. "Good luck to you all,"

* * *

Stewart stood on _Lorcan_, watching the blips come into sight.  
"Activate subspace jamming," he spoke to his comms lieutenant. "They know we are here, but if we are lucky they haven't told anyone else about us." he said, more to himself than any of his subordinates.  
The ship was prepared for the fight. He had five Marine fireteams aboard, each leading a section sized unit of Navy Armsmen(those Ratings who took advanced weapon handling courses).They should be safe from any potential borders.  
His Sixteen 302E's and Hailey's flight of 401's were already launched; he could see the numerous dots of the fighter screen on his tactical display.  
The enemy were drawing nearer.  
"We have positive ID, sir," Lieutenant Commander Grant called out. "We have...seven cruisers and one...no, TWO Hive ships!" the LC looked round, a little fear in his eyes.  
"Bring the Beam weapons up to full power. What's the status on B-turret?" the captain asked of the temperamental beam turret that chose which days it wanted to work properly.  
"Aye, sir"  
"XO, how do things look out their?" Stewart said as he hit a different button on his command chair.  
Hesk was sitting in one of the 302E's. Despite his senior position aboard ship, the commander was ex-FAA and there was nothing Stewart could do to stop him joining the fighter-screen.  
"_All systems are green. A flight and B flight are ready to engage._"  
Stewart watched the tactical display as the Wraith ships closed to fight. the first Darts were being launched, dozens upon dozens of the things.  
"All clear to engage, 104th Squadron. Good hunting," Stewart replied. "grant, open fire on the first hive with the beam weapons, before the damn things decide to break again,  
"Aye, sir."  
The _Lorcan_ and crew were engaging the Wraith in battle properly for the first time. They were in for a hell of a fight.

"Fire plasma cannons, captain. Engage the same Hive ship as the _Lorcan_. We need to take them out first," MacGregor said as he gripped his seat. Two more Wraith blasts had his the fore shields, and although they were holding, the _Fraiser_ took the dunts.  
"Aye, sir." Connolly replied. She seemed to take no offence to the Admiral taking over, despite this being her ship. He was competent and knew his job well.  
"Brace for impact!" the XO called again, and Connolly gripped the console tightly

The two Earth Ships moved into the fire, moving target being better than stationary ones. Blobs of Asgard plasma shot from the _Fraiser_, causing explosions and hull breaches all over the Hive. Return shots impacted on the shields, their dissipation causing ripples along the bubble.  
Lorcan fired her beam weapons again, shearing through the Hive end to end.  
This impact caused a rapid loss in atmosphere, causing the massive ship to spin in the vacuum.  
Railguns spat more shots into the Hive even as it tumbled away towards one of the moons around the planet.  
All around, the two opposing fighter screens attacked each other with unrestrained fury. Despite being heavily outnumbered, the Earth fighters had shields and maneuverability at their sides.

"Leave that lobster, all Railguns should be firing at Darts!" Stewart barked. "We need to support the fighters."  
"Aye, sir."  
"Grant, target that second Hive. Bring it down."  
"Aye, sir!" Grant smiled evilly.

As the _Lorcan_ was about to fire, the Wraith ships, who had been flanking the two human ships, all targeted the British ship. They judged it, through size and weaponry, to be the bigger threat.  
More than a dozen shots hit the _Lorcan_, caused shield fluctuations along the whole length of the ship. In more than one place, ship started venting oxygen.  
The hive continued to ignore the Fraiser. That was a mistake.

"Bring us around the back of that Cruiser, please, helm. Have all starboard weapons fire on her engines." MacGregor said quickly, an edge of expectations creeping over him.  
Another explosion rocked the _Fraiser_ as one of the Cruisers directed some fire, but the _Fraiser_ sailed on regardless  
The target ship slowly turned to face the oncoming threat, but it was far too late. Fraiser's forecastle and flanks erupted with Asgard plasma rounds, and the Cruiser took the impact of almost every shot. For a few moments it seemed it might escape the fusillade intact, but after one particularly lucky hit from the Australian ship, the hull bulked in the middle and the Cruiser folded up before exploding outward.  
"Five more cruisers to go, then," MacGregor muttered.

The 302E's of 104th "Dal Raida" Squadron were reaping a fearsome tally, along with the fighters from the _Fraiser_.  
An Australian 302 erupted in a fireball as three Darts bracketed it. The Darts veered away from reprisal by _Fraiser_'s railguns, only for one of the Australian 401's to wipe them from existence in a flurry of missiles.  
"Major, two Darts, coming in from the rear!" Hailey's voiced called from the cockpit of the 401. "Sort them out, please."  
"Yes, ma'am" Macara grinned. He sat at the control console of the dorsal railgun turret, sweeping it back and forth for target. the two Darts came into his line of sight, and with a slight depression of the thumb trigger on the joysticks, the Darts stopped being Darts and quickly resembled floating piles of scrap.  
"_Notch two more for the major,_" the Australian co-pilot, lieutenant Simpson laughed.  
Macara swung the weapon around to the port side and drilled some rounds into a Wraith transport. It flared for a moment before the vacuum stole every trace of its explosive death, leaving the burnt hulk drifting into the flank of a nearby cruiser.  
The rest of Hailey's flight came around on one of the Cruisers, whose fighter support was nowhere to be seen.  
"Lead to 'Digger' Flight. Come around on heading; two-zero mark. We're making an attack run on that thing."  
Hailey heard a round of affirmatives.  
The four ships streaked towards their victim, point defence turrets firing at any Dart stupid enough to come within range. Macara had to hand it to these Aussies; they built a good strike-bomber.  
The Dart protection of the cruiser, thought to be long gone, appeared as the 401's were entering weapons range.  
"It was a bloody trap!" Simpson cried. The EWO, a Japanese man named Fujiwara, cursed in his own language.  
The Wave of Darts before them was large; not so many that the four Tornadoes couldn't defeat them, but large enough to use up all their missiles in the process.  
_"Need any help, Digger flight?"_ a posh English accent sparked through the radio.  
"I wouldn't mind." Hailey stated quickly.  
"_Not a problem lead. you have Blue flight on your wings. Let's take it to them,_" the Squadron leader of Dal Raida replied.  
Missiles streaked by the flight of 401's, and Darts exploded all around. The 302E's broke away as they reached the Dart line, drawing numerous Wraith fighters away. The 401's had an almost free run.  
"off load missiles on my mark," Hailey ordered. "Railguns fire on the main target,"  
Macara heard the second command and brought the turret around. He began emptying the drum into the large cruiser, which itself was turning it's guns to fire on the 401's.  
"Now!" Hailey called.  
The powerful warheads sped through space, only a few being destroyed en route.  
The rest impacted as the 401's flew by.  
Explosions erupted along the flanks of the Wraith ship, striking interior secondary explosions. Whatever Hailey's flight had hit, they had done well. The Cruiser vented atmo, it's power flickered for a moment before failing and it just drifted away from the combat into the void.  
Hailey was about to cheer when her ship lurched to the side. A massive shadow fell over them as the Hive passed by. They were being drawn inside.  
"Controls won't respond!" she called.  
"Wraith tractor-lock has entered our ops system!" Simpson called. "They're pulling us in!"  
"How the hell are they doing that?" Macara radioed even as he emptied the railgun into the side of the Hive, causing little damage.  
"They're inside our computer. They've over-ridden flight controls!" Fujiwara called from his console.  
"There's nothing we can do," he said, eyes wide with fear.

* * *

The Wraith transport landed in the hangar bay a moment before Lorcan's shields flared back into life. Alarms wailed as the Wraith began to sweep through the corridors.  
Almost thirty of the aliens were aboard, splitting into groups and moving quickly to the most important areas, almost as if they knew where they were going.  
Captain Brady led his fireteam, assisted by nine Armsmen, against the first group they encountered. The six Wraith were taken by surprise, and the Brits took them out with abandon.  
"All teams to carrier deck-3, port side. There are numerous Wraith aboard!" Brady radioed in.  
His team engaged another group of Wraith, one that was much more cautious and led by a Wraith major. the two groups bedded down and began a withering fusillade.  
Brady's unit was suddenly hit by stunner beams from behind as more Wraith joined the fight. Two marines and three ratings were able to fall back and continue firing, but Brady was partially stunned with the other men.  
The Wraith advanced past them, blocking the corridor from assistance. The first Drones began to feed, draining the other marine and ratings in moments.  
Brady was dragged to a sitting position. He raised his hand to his ear, before the wraith hit him, sending him reeling. Even as the Wraith major clamped it's hand on the Marine captain, Brady spoke out.  
"Bridge, lock onto my transponder and beam every life sign within ten feet outside..." he struggled. The Wraith stopped feeding as he realised what Brady had done with his hand, activating the 'speak' button on his headpiece.  
"_Sir, what..._"  
"Now, that's an order..."  
The twelve Wraith with the major, and the courageous Brady all vanished, before appearing outside where the cold and vacuum killed them in seconds. The surviving humans moved in and finished the surprised Drones, before policing the bodies and desperately calling for Brady to be beamed back.

The rest of the Wraith were hunted down quickly, but not before accounting for twelve ratings and seven Marines, including Brady's group. It would have been much worse if the Wraith utilised lethal side arms.  
_Lorcan_ came about, firing her beam turrets at the Cruisers who were running interference for the Hive ship. She had lost five railgun turrets, two missile launchers were damaged and she was limited to half impulse, but Stewart wasn't giving up. The beams sliced through a cruiser, completely destroying it, before the warning claxon rang again.  
"Failure in the turrets, sir." Grant said. "We're down to missiles."  
Stewart swore long and loud. "All missiles, target that Hive!"

_Fraiser_ was no longer faring well either. The three remaining cruisers were pounding her shields, several shots getting through and causing large areas of damage. She had been boarded multiple times.  
"Admiral, we have engine failure! We're dead in the water!" the helmsman cried.  
"Shields at ten percent. We can't hold on, sir!" Connolly said, looking up from the tactical console.  
MacGregor swore as Stewart just had. "Prepare to beam the crew to _Lorcan_, and..."  
"Sir, we have another contact!" Commander Connolly shouted suddenly. "We have IDC, it's the _Nightcrawler!_"  
"About time," MacGregor sighed in relief.

_Nightcrawler_ shot out of hyperspace, launching fighters and it's Jumper compliment a moments later. It's single beam turret sliced through the nearest cruiser, and Trang moved his stealth ship to engage the Hive.  
Before he could do anything to it, the remaining Wraith ships turned and jumped to hyperspace.

* * *

"What the hell?" MacGregor breathed. It took him only a moment to regain his composure. "Finish off the Darts, and then take stock for me!" he ordered.  
"_Sorry I'm late, sir. We had the engines at max._" Trang's voice came across the comms.  
"Better late than never. You can help tidy the party away."  
"_Yes, sir."_  
MacGregor looked proudly at his crew. First blood.  
"Well done everyone. Well done." he said, and they all cheered him.  
He shared a look with the ships captain. _That was damned close_

* * *

Little more than an hour later, they had the butchers bill.  
Eighteen dead sailors, seven RMC, three Australian 302's, one British 302E both with crew, and two 410's. The latter had proven their abilities in combat beyond a doubt.  
There was one problem. One of the 410's was just, _gone_  
"_Sir, there is no transponder or wreckage. Just nothing._" Stewart reported.  
"_We're not picking anything up either,_" Trang said.  
MacGregor sighed. What had happened to Hailey's bird?  
"We can only assume they have been destroyed, or captured. Trang, we can't search yet, we need serious repairs. Can you follow the Hyperspace signature?"  
"_I'll see what I can do, admiral, but any enhancements will take time. I will report in after we're done. Out_"  
"Gram, can you handle patrolling the system with your engines?"  
"_No problem, we have half impulse. I'll set out just now and let you know what we find_"  
"Thanks, Gram. I don't want anyone left behind."  
"_Sir_,"  
MacGregor rubbed his temples. "Commander, I am going to the briefing room. your ships is yours again."  
Connolly stood and took the Admirals salute, before retaking her command chair.

* * *

"Shit..." Simpson breathed, staring at the gargantuan Dart bay.  
"Don't talk, just get ready to fight." Macara said, slipping his Fairburn-Sykes into his boot. It didn't quite fit, so be bloused his fatigues over the top. It was demanded uncomfy.  
"You think we have a chance?" Hailey asked, worried beyond measure.  
"No, not with side arms. But I'd rather take a few of them with us before I'm fed on." Macara muttered. He held one of two P90s aboard. Fujiwara had the other.  
"Here we go..." he said as the rear hatch opened.  
A Wraith grenade rolled in.  
"Now that isn't even funny," Macara spat before the weapon flashed and knocked the whole crew out.


End file.
